


Fires of Rebirth

by Soraan



Series: Dark Ranger series [1]
Category: Warcraft II, World of Warcraft
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama & Romance, F/F, Femslash, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-05-29 22:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 59,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6396901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soraan/pseuds/Soraan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alyna Salonar is a reluctant quel'dorei mage living on Quel'Danas. For 100 years she had been a ranger until her magic suddenly manifested. Taken from everything she knows to be trained as a mage, even her lover, Sylvanas Windrunner, eventually moved on. Suddenly she is reunited with her ex and struggles to come to terms with what she is. Set during the Second War. Femslash. First story in the Dark Ranger series. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Azeroth, and the denizens there of, belong to Blizzard Entertainment. While Alyna and a few others are of my own creation, pretty much everything else has been shamelessly pillaged, coerced, and/or re-imagined for your entertainment.
> 
> A/N - While I am generally very picky about lore, I also believe that the addition of major characters can change how things turn out, or how they arrive at key points within the story of Warcraft. This is basically me pre-empting "But that's not how it happened!". If you think that, you'd most likely be right - but that's how it will happen in my world :) If you can't accept that, or a consenting sexual relationship between two women, this is not for you. Otherwise, please enjoy! Constructive criticism welcome.

"Focus, Alyna!"

Alyna Salonar growled through her gritted teeth as she focused what was left of her magical energy through her outstretched hands. The object of her focus was hovering ethereally above the centre of high elf civilisation, the sacred Sunwell, the source of their power. Sweat ran down her delicate elven features, and she silently cursed the strand of deep burgundy hair that had fallen across her face to irritate her cheek.

By the time she realised she had overdone it, it was too late to prevent the inevitable. The stream of arcane energy coursing from her hands dimmed for a moment before exploding in a blinding flash. She cried out in pain as the backlash slammed into her body, hurling her backwards through the air. The ground was not merciful as she landed, and she felt the world going dark.

"Alyna!"

Feet came running towards her and she could feel strong hands sitting her up. A cool hand gently tapped her cheek to keep her conscious. She fought the wave of nausea that coursed through her before finally opening her glowing deep blue eyes to take in the concerned features of her mentor, Magister Falcar Silverflame.

She made a move to stand, but he held her still. "Let's make sure you're okay first before we try anything drastic like standing."

Knowing better than to argue, she automatically scanned around the edges of the Sunwell until she found what she was looking for. Falcar's eyes followed hers and she heard him sigh. The magical runeblade Felo'alann, "Flameheart" in Thalassian, lay off to the side, steam rising from its length. Hesitantly, she held out her hand. The blade answered by gliding across the floor, its hilt nestling into her palm.

"Hmm! Well, at least it still responds to you." The relief in his voice mirrored her own feelings.

Runeblades were rare and powerful magical artefacts that her people, the quel'dorei, passed down through each generation. Whilst not sentient, they had unique personalities and generally decided on their own whether a wielder was worthy of possessing it. Falcar had no children, and had decided to pass Felo'alann to his latest apprentice, Alyna. She could not fathom why he had chosen her for such an immense honour, and it would appear the runeblade itself was not sure of her either.

She was dimly aware of a priestess examining her as she gazed at the graceful lines and curves of her latest failure. The runeblade was inert as it lay across her lap, the only sign of its singularity being the ornate dragon hilt she still held. Where the red beast's mouth opened, the blade emerged, the metal forged to simulate waves of flame. When her mentor wielded the blade, an intricate foreign script would appear etched into the length of the silvery metal. The runes would shimmer as if on fire.

Falcar had not left her side, and she felt comforted by his presence. She had reluctantly become his student thirty years prior, and she had been angry. Not at him, but because she felt she had been torn away from her true calling of being a ranger. She had begun training with the elite Farstriders at the tender age of twenty-five, and had excelled. It was a life she adored, and she had risen rapidly through the ranks to become a Ranger Captain. She had also fallen in love with another ranger. Her life had been simple. She had been happy.

After over a century of living her body had shown no talent for magic outside of the natural powers she manipulated as a Farstrider. Then, long after anyone thought it would, her innate arcane abilities began to manifest. It was almost unheard of. Magical talent usually revealed itself during adolescence, or very early adulthood, particularly within bloodlines that had as many magisters as Alyna's. She had not understood what was happening at first, and kept her condition hidden for a few years. In the end, she lost control. No one was hurt, but her magister father had immediately decided that she had to leave the Farstriders for good and be formally trained so as not to be a danger to others.

She had thought that the worst day of her life. But it wasn't. Her lover had stuck with her for the next decade as Alyna began to learn to control her power, but the strain on their long distance relationship had been too much. In her heart, she knew there was another reason why Sylvanas had walked away from her that day after nearly one hundred years of being together, but she had been too scared to ask. She still was.

She looked up at Falcar and smiled gently at the man who was a better father to her than her own. Magister Athanos Salonar was an important man within their society and he had other, more successful, children to nurture than to waste his time on his rebellious middle child. He had passed her around amongst his arcanists for training, each less interested than the last, before Falcar had volunteered to tutor her.

He held his hand out to her now, the priestess having given her a clean bill of health and strict orders to rest. She took it, and he pulled her up from the floor. She sheathed the stubborn runeblade at her side and let him pull her into a fatherly hug.

"We just tried too soon, Alyna."

Her words were muffled against his chest. "I still don't know why you think it's ever going to accept me, my Lord."

She felt his amusement. "Why? Because you're not of my blood?" He pulled away to cup her cheek softly. "Family is more than just what runs through your veins, my student. It's what burns through your heart, and radiates from your soul. We can make connections through these that run deeper than the thickest blood." His smile was gentle. "Besides, Felo'alann has already accepted you or you wouldn't even be able to touch it. It just won't allow you access to its core powers until it deems you ready."

He tilted his head to gauge her carefully. "Tell me, do you _want_ to wield it?"

She knew her reply should have been instant, but her 'yes' died in her throat.

He nodded, expecting as much. "Your soul still yearns for our forests." He paused, before adding, "or someone in them."

She looked away, feeling the flush rise through her cheeks. He began guiding her away from the plateau that was home to the Sunwell, their allotted time now over.

"Do you know how long it was before the blade accepted my mastery over it?"

She shook her head, "No, my Lord."

"Four hundred, and thirty-two years." His teeth flashed in a mischievous grin that made him look much younger than his two thousand years. "And seven months." The shock on her face must have been evident because he laughed before continuing his story. "I was a magister before it finally deemed me ready." She was about to interrupt but he held up his hand to forestall her. "So, why am I asking you, an apprentice who has barely come into her powers, to unlock the blade? Why do you think?"

Alyna's eyes unfocused as she thought on this, trusting him to guide her through the wide walkways that connected the various villages on the island of Quel'Danas with the Sunwell Plateau and Magister's Terrace. They both knew she had the answer, but the point of the exercise was to get her to reflect on it, so she humoured him.

Her impatience had been the one thing that had truly been an obstacle to her training, and she knew it stemmed from her unease at her situation. Most of the other apprentices were a century younger, barely having reached physical maturity. She felt the constant need to catch up to her peers and not be left behind. It was not as if she lacked patience, far from it in fact. Rangers were known for possessing deep reserves of stamina and patience, cultivated through their daily work. She was just choosing not to redirect those talents as an act of silent rebellion to her father. She knew it saddened Falcar greatly, as the only person she was ultimately hurting was herself.

She just couldn't help it.

She now knew the possible dangers of trying to connect to her blade using the traditional conduit of the Sunwell. He had been there to protect her, but it had all been to bring home the simple fact that she was not to try this herself, no matter how impatient she got.

She nodded to him, not needing to put a voice to her answer, and he knew she understood.

"Alyna! How did it go?" She turned in time to see a young elf with long flame-orange hair run up the path behind them. Alyna smiled at Thal'ena, unable not to. Her friend had that effect on everyone around her. They shared apprentice lodgings in Dawnstar Village with two others, and had sat though many nights talking about anything and everything, except magic.

A colder voice mimicked the question, "Yes, how _did_ it go?"

Alyna looked past her friend to see Magister Lana'thel join their growing group. Thal'ena's mother was intimidating in her posture and attire, her flamboyant robes and ornate staff glinting in the noon sun. She was a powerful arcane mage, and ruthless in her ambition. She made it clear to all who would listen that she intended to become Grand Magister one day, a position currently occupied by Alyna's own grandfather.

Alyna hesitated slightly before admitting to her friend, "I wasn't able to bond to it yet."

Lana'thel snorted in disgust, "Of course you couldn't. It was arrogance to even try at your insignificant level of training."

Thal'ena bowed her head to hide her embarrassment and shame, unwilling to risk her mother's considerable wrath by defending her friend.

Falcar had no compunction. "Alyna attempted at _my_ suggestion as part of her instruction. I was there. She was safe. And while the blade remains bonded to me, the objective of the lesson was achieved."

Lana'thel looked at Falcar, her long tapered eyebrows raised in surprise. She clearly had not expected the bonding attempt to have his consent, let alone having been his idea in the first place.

Before anything more could be said, a polite cough caused them all to turn. A male page waited patiently, seemingly irritated at having waited unnoticed for too long. He wore a red tabard bearing the national crest of the high elf nation. Thick gold etching further indicated he was not any normal page, but one sent by the ruling council of Quel'Thalas, the Council of Silvermoon.

As the ranking mage amongst them, Lana'thel stepped forward, having assumed he was there for her. He bowed politely to her before shaking his head, "I beg your pardon, Lady Magister, but I have a message for Lady Alyna Salonar."

Alyna winced at the title. The Council comprised of the heads of the seven greatest families in Quel'Thalas. As a member of the House of Salonar, she was treated with a deference she had never felt comfortable with and had happily escaped whilst a ranger. She nodded for the page to continue.

"The Lord Grand Magister has requested you attend to him without delay."

She blinked. Her grandfather was formally summoning her in his official capacity, and she had no idea what it could be about. She turned to look at Falcar, and he gave her a reassuring nod; his permission for her to leave his side until she was able to return. She could not refuse her grandfather, but it was polite to ask.

She gave Thal'ena a brief hug, shaking her head at the other woman's bursting energy at the summons. She wished she shared her friend's enthusiasm. She hoped she was not about to get into trouble for attempting the binding at the Sunwell.

Dutifully, she followed the page to her fate.

* * *

Ranger General Sylvanas Windrunner was not happy.

"No." Her normally pleasant voice was as stern as it was commanding. She was clad in the dark greens and browns of her ranger profession, her leather armour only slightly more tooled and ornate than those who followed her command. Her vibrant golden hair was pulled back in a functional plait that disappeared under her deep green cloak to just above her slender waist. Her feet were planted, and arms crossed. Her formidable will was palpable to everyone in the room.

"This is not a request, General. It's an order."

Eyes that were closer to grey than blue flared angrily at the willowy grand magister before glancing around at the rest of the gathered Council. As ranger general, she was frequently asked to go to the Council sessions, and she just as frequently tended her regrets at being unable to attend. She had been given no such choice this time, having been summarily summoned from her patrol along the southern part of Quel'Thalas.

Her tone was not disrespectful, but characteristically blunt. "Integrating a mage into one of my units could take weeks of training. Anything less would put the unit and the mage at risk of ambush, or worse. I cannot agree to this."

Grand Magister Belo'vir Salonar was not going to back down from the fierce ranger. "The fires that have been sporadically appearing in our southern lands are not natural, you have said so yourself in your reports. We need someone qualified to examine them up close to see if we can determine the source. Unless you've been holding out on us, General, that is not you."

A new male voice added itself to the fray. "You command the military might of our people, Sylvanas, and everyone here greatly respects your skills in that regard. But this appears to be more magical in nature, and we need to look into it further."

Sylvanas whirled on the speaker, one of the more elderly members of the Council – her own grandfather, Magister Ra'thanar Windrunner. "I travelled two days with no rest for this meeting as I was told it was of utmost importance that I attend, only to be assigned to act as an _escort_?" While she kept her outrage in check, her exhaustion and exasperation had begun to creep into her voice. She had truly ridden here as swiftly as possible with her entourage, only stopping to swap for fresh horses and water. While she had taken a portal from Silvermoon to Quel'Danas, she had left her people at the stables in Silvermoon where she was certain they were fast asleep. She threw her hands up in frustration. "You could have just sent him out to me!"

Her grandfather had never been intimidated by her, and the slow knowing smile that appeared unnerved her slightly.

"Had we just sent her to you, you would have found some way to send her back, no doubt with as creative an excuse as you use to avoid these meetings." He raised a long white eyebrow in a silent challenge that she declined to accept, so he continued. "This way, we know you will accede to our order."

Something he said made Sylvanas blink. "Her?" She had assumed it would be one of the seasoned battle mages who would be assigned to her, who so happened to be overwhelmingly male. She felt a knot start to form in the pit of her stomach. She warily looked over to the grand magister just as a knock sounded at the door.

Belo'vir raised his own eyebrow, evidently amused. "That will be her now."

The knot became a solid lump as Alyna Salonar was escorted into the room. She immediately bowed before those present before locking eyes with Sylvanas. The lack of shock in her deep blue eyes told her she had already been briefed and had been expecting to see her. The slight quiver in her hand as she smoothed the front of her simple blue apprentice robes was the only outward sign of what she was feeling. Sylvanas wondered if the nerves were due to seeing her again, or from being before the Council.

Alyna looked paler than she remembered, no longer living outdoors as she had as a ranger. Her robes hung loosely from her slender frame and it took everything Sylvanas had not to wince at how thin she had become. The dark burgundy hair she was used to seeing flow freely around strong shoulders, or pulled back into a pony tail, was drawn up into a severe bun on her head. She smothered a sad grin at the few strands that rebelled at the treatment to drape about a face she was used to seeing an easy smile upon. Now, the kind features were all too serious and she felt a sense of loss at the knowledge of what life as a mage had done to the younger woman. _Not life as a mage; life without_ _you_. She ignored the small voice.

Sylvanas moved her gaze back to the grand magister. Whatever further argument she had prepared was now meaningless, and they all knew it. Everyone knew of Alyna's pedigree as a former protégé of the ranger general. Who better to accompany her than someone she herself had trained and taken pride in?

She also knew the Council had been entirely correct about how she would have reacted if they had just sent Alyna out to her. She would have refused to accept her and sent her home. As private a person as Sylvanas was, her prior relationship with Alyna had been common knowledge amongst the Council due to the standing both of their family's had. The complication this added for Sylvanas was immense, and she could only imagine what Alyna was feeling about the situation. Their last meeting had not been pleasant.

Belo'vir hardened his eyes slightly as he asked, "Do you have any further questions, General?"

She shook her head briefly. "No, Grand Magister."

His nod was equally fleeting. "Good. We realise time is of the essence so we will no longer keep you from your sacred duty."

Sylvanas realised she had just been dismissed. She inclined her head respectfully at those assembled and exited the room, Alyna not far behind.

They walked down the corridor outside the council chamber in silence before Sylvanas came to such an abrupt halt that Alyna almost collided with her back. She waited patiently for the younger woman to collect herself.

"Did you ask for this?"

Alyna blinked at her, slightly taken aback. Sylvanas winced. She had not intended to sound harsh but her frustration at having been so handily manipulated by the Council had got the better of her.

She was about to apologise when Alyna cut her off, her voice full of barely restrained emotion. "No, I did not. How in the Sunwell would I have even _known_ about this mission to even request it?"

She had a point.

Alyna was shaking. Sylvanas started to instinctively reach out for her but she pulled away, taking a step back. The look Alyna gave her was indecipherable and the normally stoic general felt something she was greatly unaccustomed to – shame. The lump in her stomach had dissolved and was infusing every part of her being with the emotion. She scowled and shook her head to clear it. She was used to being in control of her life, and the last few minutes had decidedly run amok.

A faint intake of breath was followed by pain-laden words, "I'll meet you at the stables." Too late, Sylvanas realised her unconscious gesture had been taken the wrong way by Alyna, who had turned on her heel and practically run down the rest of the corridor.

She sighed and was about to follow when a familiar voice stopped her.

"Remember our agreement, Sylvanas."

She gave the words a feral snarl in response, not turning to see who spoke them. She knew perfectly well who it was and had no desire to see his face again so soon. She started to walk away when he made her pause again, his tone brooking no argument.

"Do _not_ interfere with Alyna anymore than you have already, or you know what the consequences will be."

She grit her teeth, never more certain of the hatred that coursed through her veins for the powerful man behind her. She focused on controlling it before she acted on it irrationally. As much as she wanted to, it would certainly result in her death, either at his hand or via a court martial.

"You _know_ I have stayed away from her!" She closed her eyes against the pain of the last two decades. It was dangerous to ask, but she had to know. "Did you assign her to me on purpose?" She had balled her fists without realising it, a prick of pain as a nail cut through her palm her first realisation of it. "Is this some twisted game of yours?"

He paused. "No. The circumstances were … regrettably … unavoidable."

She snorted her disgust at him before walking away again. This time, he did not stop her.


	2. Chapter 2

The ride to the nearest Farstrider outpost had been awkwardly silent. Sylvanas had led them purposefully around all the villages in their path to avoid unnecessary contact with the public. She was not in a sociable mood and villages meant dignitaries, elders, children and gawkers. She was exhausted and running on pure willpower alone. Her two rangers were not doing much better despite their short nap, and Alyna was wisely keeping to herself. By the time they turned up the path to the outpost, Sylvanas was ready to fall off her horse. She closed her tired eyes for a moment and sighed to herself. It was mid-afternoon and her day was far from over.

Joyful whoops and hollers cried out as the small group rode into the central yard of Farstrider Retreat. Sylvanas gave them a genuine smile. She was home amongst her Farstriders. Various rangers approached them to tend to their horses as they dismounted and she thanked them gratefully.

"Welcome back, General," came a deep, male voice. She turned to see her second-in-command approaching with light steps, Ranger Captain Lor'themar Theron. The powerfully built elf was simply dressed in a dark green tunic, leggings and knee-high boots. Some of his corn-silk hair had been pulled into a top-knot, while the rest hung liberally down his back. She stepped forward and they clasped forearms warmly. "We weren't expecting you until this evening, considering how long the Council sessions normally last."

She met his eyes briefly before cutting them towards Alyna. "It was anything but a normal session."

He followed her gaze and she watched his eyes widen in surprise. She could already hear quiet murmurs as others recognised the former ranger captain. Only the most recent recruits would not know who she is, or what she had been to their general. Just as many eyes were turning to Sylvanas as were watching Alyna. One pair were the questioning eyes of Lor'themar.

She shook her head, anticipating his questions. "It was not my idea, and I'll explain everything in your office." She put a hand on his arm and began leading him towards the command lodge. "I'm going to need a full unit to take south with me tomorrow."

"That won't be a problem. Halduron's been itching for something to do for a while. You know what he's like when it's his unit's turn for garrison duty." He was referring to Ranger Lieutenant Halduron Brightwing, an outstanding ranger and personal friend of the Windrunner family.

Sylvanas nodded her agreement at the choice before continuing, "I also need you to put your company on full standby for mobilisation, and send word to the others to do the same." He raised his eyebrows at the order. A ranger unit was comprised of eleven rangers and a lieutenant, with fifteen units making up a company of one hundred and eighty rangers in all, normally led by a captain. At any one time, at least two units were stood down so their members could spend time with their families, while numerous others were out on patrols and training missions. Lor'themar commanded the local company closest to their capital city of Silvermoon, while Sylvanas commanded her own company, and the Farstriders as a whole, out of Farstrider Enclave in southern Quel'Thalas. Three other companies occupied various outposts in between and along the coast.

"Are you expecting trouble?"

They walked into the sparse but functional lodge. The walls bore numerous maps of Quel'Thalas at various scales, and a large rota board took up the entirety of one wall to keep an eye on the comings and goings of units. She unslung her bow and quiver, placing them on a rack next to the door. She also wore a pair of light-weight swords that were sheathed across her back, and she drew them now to hang next to her bow.

While it was Lor'themar's desk, he invited her to take his seat and she sank into it, the weariness of the past few days threatening to overwhelm her. He moved to a side table and filled a glass with water and placed it before her. She raised it to him in thanks and drank deeply. Once she had emptied it, she regarded him openly, letting him see the emotions that flickered across her face. Hiding them required energy she didn't have right now.

"I don't know. There's something about these fires in the south that is unsettling me. They're the harbingers of something, but I can't put my finger on what it is."

He took the seat opposite her. "It's not forest trolls."

"Agreed. Not quite their style." They shared a small smile. The forest trolls, their ancient enemy, could be challenging opponents, but were also highly predictable.

"What about this Horde business? Could it be them?"

"The orcs?" She looked at one of the enlarged maps of southern Quel'Thalas that hung on the wall as she contemplated his suggestion.

A couple of weeks ago, a missive had arrived from beyond their borders to the south from King Terenas of the human kingdom of Lordaeron. One of the other human kingdoms had been overrun and destroyed by a race of green warriors, called orcs, that had supposedly come from another world. This Horde was now making its way north, and the rest of the human kingdoms had created a grand alliance to fight them. The missive had been sent on behalf of the last descendant of the kingdom of Arathor, one Lord Anduin Lothar. Arathor had been the first great human civilisation, but had splintered into the current seven nations over two thousand years ago. The high elves had sworn a blood-debt to the royal bloodline of Arathor to come to their aid should they request it.

That debt had been called in. However, their own ruler, High King Anasterian Sunstrider, did not consider the Horde to be a threat to Quel'Thalas, and neither did the Council. Honour had demanded the blood-debt be paid though, and they had sent a token force of a single naval battle group; four destroyers and eight support vessels.

Sylvanas sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her own older sister, Alleria, had raged at the Council's decision to leave the Horde threat to the younger races. She had demanded Sylvanas send rangers to accompany the navy, but Sylvanas' hands were tied. She could not go against the Council in this and take the Farstriders into a war they had already been forbidden from joining. She had orders to secure the southern border, and wait.

Alleria's response had been to rotate her own unit out of active service so they were officially on leave. As the ranger captain of her company, she had free rein over its logistics. She had left her most senior lieutenant in charge of the company, and had boarded one of the destroyers with her unit to head south. Sylvanas had been incensed when she found out, but could not afford the resources to bring her back. She was not looking forward to dealing with her sister when she returned.

She pushed the thought aside to reply to Lor'themar. "We admittedly don't know much about these orcs, but the reports described them as heavy, muscled and brutish. They seem the sort to come crashing through our forests directly and not waste time creating random fires and hiding from sight."

"So, they're uglier, meaner humans," quipped Lor'themar.

She chuckled. Before she could respond, a polite knock sounded at the door. "Enter." She felt her chest tighten as Alyna's robed form filled the entrance.

Lor'themar, being the gentleman, rose from his chair and offered it to Alyna. Sylvanas felt like rolling her eyes, and ended up staring up at the ceiling instead for a moment. She realised she had not explained Alyna's presence to her captain yet.

Sylvanas looked at Lor'themar as she said, "Alyna was assigned to us by the Council to assess the fires in the south for any magical traces."

He looked at Alyna with noticeable pity. "This must be difficult for you."

Both women stared at him in surprise, for different reasons. Alyna diplomatically managed, "I cannot say it won't be a challenge."

He gave her a soft smile. "Is there anything we can do to make this easier on you?"

Sylvanas had a sudden urge to yank his hood down over his eyes and push him into a bog. He knew Sylvanas had been the one to end their relationship and he was treating Alyna like she was the only one affected by the Council's decision. He knew Sylvanas better than that. At least, she thought he did.

Alyna was just as surprised at his generosity as she was by his initial statement. "I … thank you." Her eyes flickered to Sylvanas' now impassive features. "I was actually hoping for a change of clothing. I didn't have any time to pack before we left."

"We don't keep robes just lying around." Sylvanas inwardly winced at the blunt remark and Lor'themar shot her an admonishing look over the top of Alyna's head.

Alyna looked down at her hands. "I was actually hoping for ranger attire. Including a bow?" They were all silent for a few moments before Alyna raised wide dark blue eyes to look directly at Sylvanas. "They're easier to travel and move in than robes, and it will help me blend in better."

Her eyes had captured Sylvanas' entirely, and she could not look away. These were eyes she had found herself lost in on many an occasion before today. They still had that affect, she realised.

Sylvanas could not fault the logic. One of her primary concerns had been the ability of the unit to move swiftly, silently and under cover with a mage in their midst. A bright blue robe would hinder that. She found herself agreeing to the request with a nod, not trusting herself to speak at that moment, and not really understanding why.

Sensing something amiss in his general, Lor'themar stepped forward. He gently took Alyna by the elbow and drew her up from the chair. "Why don't we get you kitted out? Then you'll have the rest of the day to get used to it again before you get going tomorrow."

Alyna gave him a smile that reached her eyes, and Sylvanas felt her heart drop into her stomach. As the two left the lodge, she briefly wondered if she could hand over the mission to Lor'themar and bury herself in paperwork back at Farstrider Enclave, but the thought quickly died in her mind. Sylvanas led from the front. She had to see what these fires were about first-hand, not hear about it later and delay any possible reaction.

With her elbows propped on the desk, she dropped her face into her hands and sighed deeply. She hoped it was just her exhaustion leaving her vulnerable. Once she'd had a good night's sleep, she'd be fine.

* * *

While dinner had been simple and hearty, Alyna had felt the strained atmosphere around the fire pits and knew it was because of her. More than a few rangers had welcomed her, from polite waves to the immense bear-hug Halduron had nearly burst her lungs with. She could hear the rangers who knew her whispering to those who didn't the story of who she was, both to them and their general. She tried to ignore her burning ears, but she couldn't, and was now walking around the forest outside Farstrider Retreat to calm her nerves.

She rolled her shoulders lightly. The armour she had been given was familiar, but awkward. She used to feel like she was pulling on a second skin when donning the trappings of her former life, but now they felt cumbersome. She knew that would remedy itself in time, but she realised she would not be wearing them long enough for that to happen. She would be back in a robe casting pointless spells on target dummies and household objects.

She kicked at a dead branch in frustration and felt a small amount of satisfaction when it fragmented against the base of a tree.

"Well, your temper's got worse."

Alyna whirled around in surprise to see Sylvanas sitting on a tree stump, a partially carved arrow shaft in her hand and a small pile of finished arrows off to one side. She had her hood pulled up over her head, as was her preference, though shorter strands of golden hair had managed to escape its confines around the edges. The dark circles under her eyes were the only outward sign of just how tired she was.

"I-I'm sorry. I'll leave you be."

Sylvanas sighed. "It's fine." She sat back slightly and peered down the length of the shaft before she continued shaving bits off it with a knife. "Unless you go deeper into the forest you're not going to find much peace around here. You might as well stay since we're both out here for the same reason."

Alyna folded her arms across her chest, the leather gauntlets she wore making even such a simple movement clumsy.

Sylvanas noticed, as she did everything around her. Alyna found herself blushing. There was a fallen tree opposite to where Sylvanas was sitting, and she made her way over to it and sat down.

Sylvanas looked up briefly before saying, "I'm sorry we couldn't get something for you that fits better."

"He tried his best." She adjusted her breastplate slightly as it had ridden up when she sat down.

"Don't they feed you on Quel'Danas?"

Alyna threaded her fingers through her dark burgundy hair. She had decided to let it hang loose and found herself playing with it frequently. She missed the look Sylvanas gave her as she was too busy staring off into the trees. "You're saying the armour would fit me properly if I was fitter."

The carving stopped for a few moments and she turned to see Sylvanas cutting a nock into one end of the now straight shaft. Her eyes flickered up to meet Alyna's briefly before refocusing on her work.

"You've lost a lot more than just muscle, Alyna," she said quietly.

Alyna knew she sounded bitter but she felt she had the right to be, "And what concern is that of yours?"

Sylvanas paused her carving, seemingly reconsidering the wisdom of inviting Alyna to join her. She swallowed, and if she didn't know any better, Alyna could have sworn she sounded upset but was pushing through it by clipping her words. "You asked for a bow. Have you tried drawing it yet?"

Alyna tilted her head in confusion. "No, I was going to practice this evening."

Now Sylvanas looked up at her. Her eyes narrowed and she swore through her teeth. She dropped her half-done arrow into the completed pile.

Alyna stood up, watching as she began to gather her tools. "What did I say?"

"I'm guessing you've not used a bow in twenty years." Alyna didn't deny it. It had been too painful to pick a bow up again after they broke up and her silence spoke volumes. "It's not like riding a horse where you can just get back on and let the horse do the work. Practising is more than just maintaining your aim; it's about keeping you strong enough to draw the bow easily."

It was Alyna's turn to swear. "That didn't cross my mind."

"Evidently," replied Sylvanas dryly. Her tone then softened, "Though, it didn't appear to cross Lor'themar's mind either." She finished gathering everything and stood to face Alyna, assessing her quietly. "Why do you want to use a bow anyway? You're a mage."

Alyna snorted, "I'm an apprentice, nothing more. Combat magic isn't something they teach to those who still occasionally set their robes on fire."

She saw a twinkle of amusement in the grey-blue eyes watching her. "They think you're good enough to send out with me to look at these fires."

Alyna felt her shoulders sag. "Barely." She felt Sylvanas' eyes boring into her and she found she had to turn away from the other woman's clinical judgement. She felt inadequate. "My grandfather taught me what I needed to know shortly before you arrived. They knew you wouldn't accept anyone else." She gave a short half-crazed laugh. "As if we can call this you actually accepting me. We know I'm only here because of an order, nothing more."

The silence behind her stretched on but she did not dare turn around. Just as she thought Sylvanas had actually slipped away without her knowing, she heard the faint rustling of movement as the other woman moved closer. Sylvanas moved so close behind her she could feel the warmth of her breath as she spoke, and it sent a shiver down her spine. The general was a couple inches taller and her presence had always felt protective.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad it's you," came the quiet, gentle words.

Alyna turned her head towards the voice and stopped. She could feel the heat of Sylvanas' face radiating against hers; she was that close. She closed her eyes against the surge of emotion inside her and swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew she still loved this woman; it had just become easier to almost forget that she did when Sylvanas had been hundreds of miles away instead of mere millimetres.

Sylvanas cleared her throat and stepped back, "Let's get back so we can sort out this bow problem."

Alyna took a moment to collect herself and then turned to face her, "You think it can be?"

The other woman shrugged. "I have an idea or two, but we need to get started."

"Thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me yet. If this works, you'll be cursing my name."

Both women winced at the choice of words but neither said anything as they made their way back to the Retreat.


	3. Chapter 3

Alyna was miserable as they rode through the well-travelled paths of Eversong Woods. The sun had yet to rise high enough in the sky to penetrate through the trees, and she tugged her cloak closer for warmth. They rode in pairs, all with their hoods pulled down over their faces to keep warm. They had no need to hide who they were; all those they passed recognised a ranger unit when they saw one and greeted them kindly.

She rode just behind Halduron, who led the way beside Sylvanas. Unlike her, Halduron was wearing heavier plate armour. He had a long sword sheathed at his side and a long-bladed spear strapped to his back along with his oblong shield. All archers had swords to use when their arrows ran out, but they preferred to fight at range. To maintain that range they sometimes needed some heavier equipped fighters to hide behind, and Halduron's unit was specialised in melee combat. They were still able to move very quickly and quietly though, using their cloaks and ranger talents to blend into the forest. They weren't as widely known as the archer units, but were a vital component to how the Farstriders operated.

Sylvanas had been right about wanting to curse her name, but if she was pressed on the subject she was glad for the cause of it. It had taken some time, but Sylvanas had eventually found a composite bow that was suitable for Alyna. She had then made a new bowstring that was slightly longer than the standard used by the rangers. This reduced the power of the bow as a whole, but meant Alyna could more easily draw it to fire. Despite this, it had still taken considerable effort. Sylvanas had made her shoot arrow after arrow until she was satisfied with the power to pull weight ratio, and had left Alyna with orders to keep practising.

Her aim improved drastically over the next couple of hours, and she was now quite pleased with it considering the circumstances. Halduron had helped provide some moving targets and she quickly fell back into a familiar rhythm.

She had been relieved when Sylvanas had left. While having the general help her shoot had brought back fond memories, it was always intimidating to practice in front of her. Sylvanas was the best archer in Quel'Thalas, some would say the best her people had ever known, and she had always felt deficient when practising beside her. She had been repeatedly told by Sylvanas she shouldn't feel that way. She had been a talented archer in her own right, as proven by Sylvanas taking her on as a protégé, but how could anyone feel any different around Sylvanas' effortless ease with a bow?

The pain of practice had woken her up early. Her right arm was in enough pain to want it amputated, her shoulders were so weak that just holding her mount's reins was a strain, and her chest hurt with such small movements it made breathing a laborious chore. The palm of her left hand was bruised from holding the bow, and the skin on the tips of her right fingers were rubbed raw, and also bruised. The rocking of the horse made sure she was reminded of all of it every possible moment.

To make matters worse, everyone knew of her misery. They had mostly tried to ignore it out of politeness, but her horse would occasionally stumble or move unexpectedly enough to cause her great discomfort, and she had groaned a few times. After one particular stumble that had almost dismounted her, she had let loose such a string of swear words that even Sylvanas turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow as the others chuckled. Rangers walked and rode around the forests most of their lives, and generally did so in comfortable silence. They did have conversations as they travelled, but there was only so much that could be said throughout the endless days spent with the same people. There wasn't much a unit didn't know about each other. It was also hard to talk with anyone who wasn't immediately around you when they rode in pairs.

Halduron quietly asked Sylvanas, "Have you heard anything from Alleria yet?"

"Not exactly." Her response was clipped, catching Alyna's attention. "She sent word to say they had joined up with the Alliance, but nothing since."

Alyna knew this was none of her business, but Alleria had been family to her, once, and the situation sounded serious.

"Who are the Alliance? Is Alleria ok?"

Sylvanas glanced back at Alyna, appearing to weigh the pros and cons of explaining the situation to someone who was essentially an outsider. She met Halduron's eyes and he understood the request. He pulled his horse out of formation and dropped back to ride beside Alyna. Without conscious thought, Alyna kicked her mount on and drew level with Sylvanas so they could talk without her twisting back in her saddle. Halduron took her vacated spot behind.

Sylvanas briefly told her about a horde of conquering orcs that were threatening the humans, and how the commonly known about blood-debt had been called in. Alleria had disagreed with the level of their response and had taken her unit to go fight with the new alliance.

Alyna stared at the path ahead. "Wow. She must really think the Horde is a threat."

"She can think what she likes. She was still out of line to do what she did."

Alyna did not reply. She had known Sylvanas before she had become general, and knew the woman herself had done a few things that had stretched her former general's patience more than once. Being a ranger required various levels of improvisation, and those who rose through the ranks were the most creative when they needed to be to get the necessary results. Alleria was no different in this. Alyna felt that Sylvanas was not angry that one of her best rangers had followed their gut feeling. She was angry her own sister had defied her orders, which will now put her in the unenviable position of having to reprimand her when she returned. If she couldn't keep her own family in line it didn't reflect well on her ability to lead the nine hundred men and women she had been entrusted with.

"Do you think the fires are related?"

Sylvanas dropped her forehead into the palm of her hand before slowly replying, "I don't know, and it's part of the reason you're here – to find out."

Alyna winced. "Not the first time you've been asked that question, is it?"

She received a wan smile in response, "You could say that."

"Sorry."

Sylvanas waved it off. They rode in silence for a while before Sylvanas spoke again, almost thinking out loud. "The fire is not natural, so if it _is_ them they're not setting them using standard means." Anticipating Alyna's need for clarification, she continued, "The locals have not been able to put the fires out normally, with water. The only method that has worked so far is to create a fire break and isolate the fire from spreading. It then eventually burns itself out."

Alyna thought on that for a moment. "So you're cutting trees down to create a large enough gap that can't be jumped by the flames?"

"Yes."

Alyna felt her heart ache. "That's awful." Sylvanas nodded. The forests were sacred to the elves, and intentionally harming them, even to save them, was deeply personal.

Sylvanas hesitated in her next words, "There's … something else. But that is more difficult to describe. If I'm honest, I don't quite understand it." Their eyes met for a moment. "It's best you see that particular detail for yourself."

Alyna wondered what could stump the ranger general. She was going to have to wait a few days before finding out, including an extra day's detour through the main trading village in the region. She had heard Sylvanas objecting to the detour, but the local magistrix had been wanting to bring something to her personal attention since she had heard that Sylvanas was in the capital nearby. There was no sneaking by with a full ranger unit. Indeed, Sylvanas had not managed to sneak by with just her personal escort on the way to Silvermoon in the first place. A courtesy visit was now required, despite the relative priority of their mission.

She smothered a grin. Sylvanas hated politics. Her impatience and bluntness usually resulted in some comical situations and she wondered if this would be one of those.

They camped that night in a well-used but tidy clearing. The forest was dotted with them and they were used by rangers and travellers alike. After performing some basic maintenance on the fire pit in the middle, they set about hunting for, and cooking their dinner. The rangers began to take turns guarding their established perimeter, though Alyna was excused from all of these chores. Sylvanas had ordered her to more bow practice as they went about their duties. She was now sat on the ground, her back against a log. She chewed on a piece of cooked rabbit as she tried to ignore the waves of pain coursing through her as her muscles spasmed sporadically. The occasional word was audible around the fire as rangers conversed quietly in twos and threes. A group to her right laughed at something, and she felt a pang of loneliness.

She missed this life. It had occasionally been dangerous, but the comradery and friendship she had found had more than made up for it. The mages on Quel'Danas were not like this. They were highly competitive and sometimes vindictive. Their priority was how to further themselves and their social standing, whereas a ranger's priority was how they could contribute to their unit as a whole and improve everyone's lot, not just their own.

She thought back to the last day she could readily recall being happy. It had been a beautiful summer's day thirty-five years ago. She and Sylvanas had returned to where Sylvanas had grown up in Windrunner Village. Her mother, Ya'dana, was in labour with Sylvanas' little brother, and they had gone to celebrate the latest edition to the Windrunner legacy. Alleria had been there, as had their younger sister Vereesa. Shortly after the birth, Halduron had arrived. While he was a close friend of the family, he and Vereesa had become particularly close the previous few years. Rumours about a possible relationship between the two persisted, but they swore to everyone that they were just friends.

The group had been rambunctious, and Ya'dana had finally banished them all to the beach for the day so she could rest with her new born. She had sent a feast with them, which they consumed heartily in between playing in the surf and on the sand, eventually collapsing from happy exhaustion. Alyna and Sylvanas had then become so wrapped up in each other they had not noticed when the others went home. When they had eventually realised, instead of following, they had made love where they lay on the beach. The teasing they had received when they did get home had been merciless for days, but they weathered it good-naturedly. It had been well worth it.

Alyna finished her meal and threw the bone into the fire. As she looked up, she saw the tall agile form of Sylvanas watching her from the treeline. Having been caught in the act, she closed the distance between them. She plucked a stick from where it had rested against a rock and pulled off the meat that had been roasting on it. She settled beside Alyna and took a tentative bite, starting to chew once she was satisfied that it was cooked.

Once she had swallowed the mouthful, she broke the silence. "I couldn't help but notice you were smiling. I was wondering what caused it."

Alyna watched the nonchalant woman sitting next to her. "You came and sat here because I was smiling?"

Sylvanas licked some juice from her finger. Alyna tried to ignore her feelings about the innocent movement. "I haven't seen you smile this whole time."

Alyna looked into the fire. Smiling was not something she did often anymore. It came as no surprise it was unusual enough to get noticed.

"Oh." Could she have sounded dumber? She tried to sound dismissive, "I was just remembering something." She glanced at Sylvanas, who made it clear she was not going to let Alyna leave it at that. She sighed. "Do you remember that day on the beach just after Lirath was born?"

Sylvanas paused mid-chew and allowed a small smile to appear on her face as she gazed into the fire. She finished her mouthful slowly, taking her time to enjoy the memory. "Why that day?"

Her voice sounded distant even to her own ears. "It was the last day I remember making any sense to me. I had my place in the world." She attempted a shrug but winced at the pain. "I was happy." She sighed and closed her eyes at the memories that had followed. "My magic started manifesting not long after."

Sylvanas blinked. "I knew you coped alone with it for a while but I didn't realise it was for _that_ long. Five _years_ , Alyna?" When she didn't reply, Sylvanas looked down at the floor and her shoulders slumped slightly. "I'm sorry. I should have noticed."

She looked at the general closely. The apology was unexpected, and surprisingly genuine. Sylvanas was not one to apologise lightly. She was rarely wrong, and was loath to admit it even when she was.

She found herself wondering why the other woman was feeling guilty after all this time of them being apart. _Hasn't she moved on by now?_ Sylvanas had been the one to walk away from what they'd had. Didn't that mean she had been ready to move on even back then?

Movement nearby caused Alyna to look around to see what was going on. A pair of rangers had stood and gone into the trees. She frowned as she gazed around the fire to see that it was just her, Sylvanas and three others remaining. It was not time for the perimeter shift change yet. Her eyes widened as she realised why the couple had snuck off into the trees, and where the others were, and her head whirled to look back at Sylvanas.

For her part, Sylvanas had patiently watched Alyna's deduction and was ready for the reaction. She shrugged offhandedly, "They may die tomorrow."

Alyna knew she was gawking and made a conscious effort to rein her jaw in. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. The closeness of a ranger unit commonly went beyond platonic friendship and into realms that were more physical. They were all still friends, and they still respected the boundaries of established relationships, but outside of that they only had each other for companionship. They lived each day like it was their last, and if getting laid helped them fight without regret, the ranger leadership was content to let it happen. Any related disputes resulted in transfers, though these were surprisingly rare.

"I know. I … recall … the tradition." She threaded her fingers through her hair. "I had just not expected … I forgot about it, okay?" She blew a calming stream of air from her lungs. Sylvanas had leant back casually, her strong legs stretched out before her. She was clearly enjoying Alyna's prudish reaction and it made Alyna very self-conscious. "Are you expecting trouble?"

Sylvanas raised a golden eyebrow at the same question Lor'themar had asked her at the Retreat. "We always expect trouble, you know that."

Alyna looked away as images of moments with Sylvanas within the trees flashed through her mind, making it difficult to breathe. "Have you … since we …?" She nodded into the trees for clarification as to what she was asking. She had no right to ask, but she had to know.

Sylvanas considered her answer for a few moments before replying. "No." She raised both eyebrows at Alyna. "You?"

Alyna shook her head. There had only ever been one person for her, and she was now unattainable. She had no interest in others, even just for physical gratification.

Sylvanas stared at her for a long while, though her features gave nothing away as to what she was thinking. Alyna was quite sure that while she was looking at her, she wasn't seeing her. She was deep in thought about something.

Eventually, Sylvanas blinked and glanced up at the cloudless sky. She sighed and threw her unfinished meal into the fire and stood up. She collected her bow and stood near Alyna. One of the reasons Sylvanas was revered by the rangers was her willingness to do everything they did, including taking her turn on watch. That turn had apparently come.

"Get some sleep, okay? It'll help your muscles recover."

Without waiting for an answer, she moved silently into the trees.

* * *

She watched as Alyna rolled out her bedroll a safe distance from the fire and lay down on her side. She had kept her sword sheathed across her back, and Sylvanas suspected it was a runeblade, particularly as Alyna did not carry a magi staff. She was curious as to how Alyna had come into possession of one but had not found the right moment to ask. While she had taken her quiver off, she had kept her bow in her hand with a couple of arrows.

Sylvanas smiled. _Good girl._ Whether Alyna had done that consciously or not, it would appear she had not forgotten her training.

She was leaning around the trunk of the tree she was in, a few meters up from the forest floor. She should be further away from the camp, but from here she could keep an eye on Alyna while not being seen in return. A twig snapped somewhere in the forest and she turned, immediately cursing herself when she realised she was night blind. By staring into the bright camp she had made a novice mistake. Her ears had already identified the intruder as a small rodent, but she scolded herself for her lapse.

She remained looking away from the camp and settled onto the bough she occupied, her back against the trunk; her bow ready on her lap with an arrow notched. Again she realised she should move deeper into the forest to remove the remaining light, but she was unwilling to leave Alyna alone. The other downside to being so close to camp was she could also just about hear one of the couples who were making use of the trees. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back to thump lightly onto the bark. The irony was not lost on her.

She was having difficulty reading the younger woman, which she found frustrating. She had been intimately familiar with every small twitch and quirk of Alyna's before they split. _Before you broke her heart._ She scowled at her conscience. It was the reason she had done this to them both in the first place so she could do without it piping up now. It was going to be a long watch if it didn't leave her alone. She'd had more than a few of those over the years.

She sighed inwardly, thinking back to when Alyna had found her making arrows. Sylvanas had quickly grown weary of the gossiping rangers and was too tired not to snap at them, so she had sought solitude amongst the trees. She could not believe her dire luck when Alyna had stumbled across her. It would appear that Fate had willed she be held accountable for the misery she had caused Alyna by making her face it head on. She had raced back to the forests after breaking up with her lover, and the distance had made it easier to cope with what she had done. Avoiding the Council sessions was as much about avoiding Alyna as it had been politics. She was also avoiding her blackmailer, but that was strangely a fair way down the list of reasons she avoided Quel'Danas. Alyna had been at the top.

When Alyna had turned her back on her, she had almost come undone. She had wanted to break down and tell her everything. Tell her she loved her, still needed her, and had made a terrible, terrible mistake. When Alyna had turned her cheek, she had wanted to press into her back, wrap her arms around her, and never let go.

But she hadn't. Alyna had shuddered when she realised Sylvanas was well within her personal space, and had then closed her eyes to cope with the unwelcome invasion of someone she was incapable of pushing away.

Sylvanas had never felt so wretched and bereft as she did in that moment.

She now felt tears leak slowly from her eyes and edge down her cheeks. She deserved to feel this way, and more. It was time for Sylvanas to face the consequences of what she had set in motion twenty years ago, and she could do that by helping Alyna find the closure she so obviously still needed, no matter how painful it would be for Sylvanas herself.

Alyna deserved better. Sylvanas vowed to help her find it.


	4. Chapter 4

“The lynx population has become unacceptable, General. Light knows what they’re eating to make them breed so damn fast but it has got to stop. They’re killing livestock and damaging property, and I _demand_ you do something about it!” shrilled Magistrix Landra Dawnstrider.

“Do you now,” responded Sylvanas, flatly. She tried to channel her frustration into the hand that was tightly gripping her gauntlets. She could hear the leather strain against her ire.

While Sylvanas was used to getting her own way, the fiery mage-ruler of Fairbreeze Village had made an art form of it. She was dressed in a form-fitting crimson and black dress that flared extravagantly at the cuffs. Her light red hair hung loosely past her shoulder blades, held back from her face by an elaborately weaved black headband.

The magistrix failed to notice Sylvanas’ lack of enthusiasm for her plight.

“We are the central market for the entire region! Premium goods for miles around are bartered here and can even end up before the High King himself. I cannot allow these beasts to scare off those providing my people with their livelihoods!”

Sylvanas stared at her, carefully schooling her features from the disbelief she felt. Several replies went through her head and she dismissed each one in turn. As much as she wanted to slap this stuck up quel’dorei down it would do Sylvanas no good in the end, and she was sure the magistrix would just bounce right back up and be as self-centred as ever. She wondered how much she made from the taxes on the barters she spoke of.

“What of your hunters, Magistrix? It’s their task to protect the village as well as source food.”

The mage threw her hands up in their air dramatically. “They’re useless cowards!”

That got Sylvanas’ attention. “Cowards?” She frowned. She knew some of the local hunters as they were led by a retired ranger. The last thing she would call them was cowards.

“They babble on about how they’re more vicious than usual. Two of them were mauled a week ago and now they refuse to take care of the problem. Can you believe it? It’s a disgrace!”

“I am just passing through, Magistrix, but I will go see them before I leave. Perhaps I can convince them to get back to their patrols.”

She blinked at Sylvanas. “That’s … it? That’s not going to solve anything! The beasts need to be culled _immediately_ , General.”

Sylvanas clenched her teeth and made her own displeasure clear, “If you _insist_ on bringing _me_ into something you could have easily taken to any of my lieutenants, Magistrix, you _will_ abide by how I see fit to deal with the situation.” The general stood aside and gestured towards the door. “I happen to have one of my best officers outside, if you wish to try your luck with him instead of me?”

Landra glared at her with such heat she was not entirely convinced she hadn’t been set on fire by the mage. “We are … grateful … for whatever aid you can provide us in this matter, General.” She inclined her head stiffly in what Sylvanas knew was out of politeness than actual thanks. She was also being subtly told that she had outstayed her welcome in the magistrix’s official residence.

Sylvanas returned the small bow, and then retreated outside. She moved a few steps away from the large white marbled home before coming to a halt. She tugged her gauntlets back on angrily as a presence moved up behind her to pause at her shoulder.

“I suppose you heard all of that?” she asked offhandedly.

“Every word!” replied Halduron, his tone obnoxiously cheerful.

“You could _try_ not to sound so amused.”

“Oh, this is trying. If I weren’t, you’d be hearing my laughter bounce off the walls of Silvermoon.”

She turned to glare at him over her shoulder and growled, “You’re incorrigible.”

He gave her a wide grin, “I’m one of your _best_ , remember? You shouldn’t want to change me.”

She made a sound of disgust in her throat and testily pulled her hood up to cover her head. “Don’t tempt me, Brightwing.”

He ignored the threat and sobered quickly as the moment between them passed. “So, next stop, the hunters?”

She nodded and began to lead the way to where she knew they gathered before their hunts and patrols. If they weren’t actually hunting, it made sense they may be hanging out there too.

He spoke what was on both of their minds. “Lynxes don’t just come into villages. They’re people-shy. Even if they’re over populated, which I don’t believe they are, this should be the last place they come.” She could almost hear him thinking. “There’s no shortage of food for them at the moment so it can’t be competition. What could drive them into the largest settlement they could possibly find in the area?”

“Perhaps they can help answer that.” She indicated the loose gathering of men and women they were approaching. One of them looked up at their approach and slapped a tired looking woman across the arm. They exchanged words and she turned to meet Sylvanas’ eyes, and smiled.

Sylvanas returned the smile and clasped forearms with the woman who had first trained her as a fresh recruit before retiring. She chuckled softly when she was pulled into a half-hug.

“Welcome back to Fairbreeze, General.” The woman also exchanged nods with Halduron.

“How are you, Dandra? And you know it’ll always be ‘Sylvanas’ to you.”

“You earned that title and I’m going to damn well use it if I want to. What do I keep telling you about arguing with me?”

Sylvanas held up her hands in surrender.

The older woman sighed. Streaks of white were starting to take over her jet black hair. Sylvanas would have thought it quite fetching if it weren’t for the obvious stress on the former ranger’s face.

“I take it Landra sent you.” Sylvanas raised an eyebrow causing Dandra to smile ruefully. Very few had the power to _send_ Sylvanas anywhere and the local magistrix was not one of them, much to her regret she was sure. “Let me rephrase: I take it Landra had a good bitch at our expense and now you’re here of your own volition to get the truth of it.”

She nodded her affirmation. “You always did have a way with words.”

She heard a strained intake of breath and turned to look at Halduron who was clearly struggling to contain his laughter. Somehow, he succeeded, though his face had turned pink with the effort.

Dandra looked at him and then back at Sylvanas. “Well, at least someone sees the funny side to all this.”

Sylvanas replied dryly, “He’s being particularly special today.”

Dandra smiled softly. “I can’t say I don’t miss being a ranger, but it was time to leave. I’m glad you’ve got some good people around you.”

Sylvanas shifted her weight uncomfortably, the conversation having grown too personal for her liking. While rangers were notoriously close, Sylvanas was the rare exception. She was content to take part in their antics and join in on their gossip, but she tried to preserve her own privacy. Her sisters, Alleria and Vereesa, had respected this barrier and helped her maintain it by not answering questions about her to other rangers, as did those privileged few who she had let into her personal life. Dandra had been one of the trusted few, but that did not mean she enjoyed talking about herself. She was also bad at accepting compliments.

“So, lynxes.”

Dandra nodded, understanding Sylvanas’ need to talk business. “I wish I could tell you what’s going on with them, but I haven’t a clue. I’ve hunted these woods for hundreds of years and never seen them this aggressive, or this brazen.”

“Has anything changed here that could be attracting them?”

Dandra shook her head. “Nothing from what I can tell.” She pressed her fingers back through her hair in frustration. “We only ever hunt the weak and infirm when it comes to lynxes. Going up against numerous healthy adults is beyond us, and if I’m honest, we don’t really want to hurt them. We don’t need them for food or fur. It would be such a waste. We’re lucky no one’s been killed, though Bandar will be off his feet for weeks.” She shook her head. “It’s not just the lynxes behaving oddly either, though they’re the ones causing us problems. Most of the wildlife is out of sorts, and have been for just over a week.”

Sylvanas put her hand on her former mentor’s shoulder to show her sympathy before turning to address her lieutenant. “Do we have anyone in the area who could come investigate this?”

Halduron took a few moments to go through what he knew of his company’s movements. “This is normally Areiel’s patch so she should be nearby with her unit on patrol. By now, I believe she should be a few miles north of here. She won’t circle back for several days though.”

Sylvanas nodded. “Please send a scout to redirect them here. They’re to investigate and see what they can do to remedy the situation. Something has the wildlife riled up and it’s too much to hope it’ll sort itself.”

“Right away, General.” He trotted off to fulfil his orders.

Dandra gave her a tired smile, “Thank you.” She looked at her hunters sadly. “They’re not cowards, General. They’re good people just in over their heads. We’re not exactly used to our food fighting back so savagely.” She looked back at Sylvanas, “And I’m not as spry as I once was.”

Sylvanas gave her a warm smile, “They’re lucky to have you. I certainly was.”

Dandra gave her a wistful look. “It seems only yesterday you were a young cadet hanging on my every word. Now, here you are. You could probably teach _me_ a thing or two.”

“I’m sure you’ll always have something to teach me, Dandra,” she said gently.

The older woman snorted her amusement. “’bout the only thing I can teach you now is how to grow old, and I won’t start you on that for a very long time to come.”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I plan on staying young forever.”

“Knowing you, you’d find a way.” They chuckled before Dandra drew Sylvanas into a friendly embrace. They said their farewells and Sylvanas made her way back into the centre of the village to look for the rest of her unit.

Just as she thought her day could not get any more complicated she heard an all too familiar male voice call out, “Sylvanas! By the Sunwell! I didn’t realise this was _your_ unit lounging around the village!”

She stopped in her tracks, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. As he approached her, she turned to address him. His hair was a lighter shade of blonde than hers, but they had almost identical eyes. They shared other facial features, but that was where the similarities ended. He wore a simple dark brown tunic and leggings with knee-high boots and gauntlets up to his elbows. A brown cloak and hood were also visible under the simple magi staff slung across his back.

She replied as politely as she could manage, “Hello, cousin.”

Zendarin was one of the few mages in the Windrunner family, and was a magister like their shared grandfather, Ra’thanar Windrunner. He was also considered to be an aloof character, preferring his own company for the most part. He didn’t play by society’s rules, the most visual evidence of this being his decidedly unmage-like attire. She couldn’t blame him on that last part; their family were predominantly rangers and hunters, and they dressed as such. Their grandfather had no such quirks though, and was usually derogatory about Zendarin’s dress sense.

“Zendarin!” Another voice joined in, saving Sylvanas from exchanging what she knew would be forced pleasantries. He had never done anything specifically to get on her bad side, but he had a knack for putting her in a bad mood. She turned to see Alyna smiling. Not at her though, at her cousin.

He opened his arms, embracing Alyna warmly. Sylvanas looked between two. She noticed that even once their embrace broke apart, they remained close together.

She knew her surprise crept into her voice as she said, “I wasn’t aware you two were acquainted.” She was about to say something else as they were clearly more than just acquaintances, but stopped herself. She had lost that right twenty years ago.

It was Zendarin who replied, “Oh, we’re _very_ good friends. It’s been, what? Twenty years?” He looked at Alyna for clarification.

Alyna glanced at Sylvanas before nodding, “About that.” Sylvanas clenched her teeth, but said nothing. Alyna smiled back at Zendarin, “What brings you out here?”

“Mother required a few things so I’m here haggling for them. They’ve a bit of a shortage of goods though so it’s been deeply aggravating. Something about ferocious lynxes?” He turned to Sylvanas. “You will sort that, right? That’s why you’re here I presume?”

“It may surprise you to learn I have other things to attend to.” The hope on his face became downcast and she sighed inwardly. “Yes, it will be looked into. Just, not by me.”

He was smiling again. “Wonderful! Thank you, cousin!” Sylvanas wanted to slap him. This wasn’t a personal favour, and he knew it. “And what of you, Alyna? What brings you so far from Quel’Danas?”

Alyna glanced at Sylvanas again, “I’m here with General Windrunner.”

The formality was not lost on any of them and obviously thrilled Zendarin. “Oh! Doing those ‘other things’ I bet? How exciting for you! Can I come?”

“What?” The question caught Sylvanas completely off guard.

“Quel’Danas is so dull, and Silvermoon hasn’t had a decent party in weeks. It’s the perfect time for a forest adventure!”

Alyna gave him one of her genuine smiles and Sylvanas felt it like a punch to her stomach. _Her cousin? Really?_ She was about to decline his offer when Alyna looked at her with pleading eyes.

“I would really appreciate his help, General.” She bit her lip. “I know why the Council chose me for this, but Zendarin is a magister and far more experienced than I am. His help could be invaluable. He’s no ranger, but he _is_ a Windrunner and raised in the forest like you.”

Sylvanas realised just how insecure Alyna was in her magical talents, despite the backing of her grandfather and the Council. She looked at the pair before her. Their familiarity was obvious, and while it galled her to think Alyna found comfort in her cousin, she needed Alyna to be at her best and not distracted around Sylvanas. She was right that Zendarin was no amateur amongst the trees. If having him along boosted Alyna’s morale and the eventual outcome of their mission, she would be negligent to turn him away.

Her objection died in her throat. She shook her head in disbelief at herself. She directed her reply deliberately at Zendarin, “Don’t make me regret this.”

He beamed at Sylvanas as Alyna hugged him. “I’ll be on my _best_ behaviour.”

She raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. The last thing her cousin was known for was socially acceptable behaviour. She turned to make her way back to her rangers, indicating they should follow.

She felt Zendarin’s smile on her back the whole way back to the horses.

The next couple days of travel passed without incident, which Sylvanas was grateful for. The wildlife was noticeably out of sorts though, and she had made the decision to stick to the public pathways instead of cutting across the forest. Alyna and Zendarin had ridden side by side the whole time, pursuing some topic of conversation or other seemingly without pause. Sylvanas had kept to herself. Halduron and his unit had left her alone to her thoughts, astute enough to realise more about the situation than she was comfortable with. She ignored it. The sooner this was over the better.

She knew she was jealous but a part of her was also pleased Alyna was laughing with someone, even if it wasn’t her. In the end, she figured it made sense. Zendarin had always been a bit of an odd entity for a quel’dorei, not quite fitting in with his peers, though also not wanting to. Alyna was certainly that as well. She did not fit in with the magi through her own choice, and she no longer fit in with the rangers. She was also of an age where her family would be looking to her to settle down with a suitable mate. Sylvanas’ own family were generally more relaxed about marital traditions than most, though there were a few notable exceptions, like her grandfather. As patriarch of their family, he took a keen interest in such matters.

Most quel’dorei would be fortunate to see their thousandth year of life, most averaging around seven to nine hundred years. Those who had a close relationship with the Sunwell could live more than three times longer, the magic infusing every part of their being to lead to longer lives. Rangers cultivated a magic of their own, and thus lived slightly longer than typical, but not by much.

Regardless of life expectancy, quel’dorei generally settled down to raise families sometime in their second or third century of life. Sylvanas was two hundred and ten, and had experienced her own pressures, mainly due to her position as ranger general as she was expected to pass on her talent. She scowled. Her relationship with Alyna had been seen as a barrier to this, so more than a few had been happy when she had ended it. Relationships with those of the same gender were fine, as long as they didn’t interfere with the propagation of the race. It was not unusual for married couples to also have same sex lovers, but the important part was they were doing their bit for society. Sylvanas’ relationship with Alyna would have superseded this, and everyone knew it.

Alyna had just celebrated her hundred and fiftieth birthday, and was part of a far more traditional family than Sylvanas. She could only imagine what pressures she was getting. Perhaps, Zendarin was her answer. He was nearly four hundred and still unmarried. Sylvanas suspected that highly irritated their grandfather. He was also a magister of admirable talent, which would be acceptable to Alyna’s own grandfather, her own family’s patriarch. Sylvanas hated politics and, unfortunately, marriage was commonly a matter of politics for those born to the more powerful families.

She heard Alyna laugh at something Zendarin had said and lowered her head to cover her reaction. She wanted Alyna to be happy, but for the next few minutes she decided to indulge in the pettiness of her jealousy. She kicked her horse into a trot, forcing the others to do the same. It killed all the conversation behind her, which secretly pleased the ranger general.


	5. Chapter 5

The group were sombre as they crossed the Elrendar River. Two pockets of grey smoke could be seen rising above the trees, and Alyna knew they were close to their goal. She winced as her horse half-leapt, half-bolted out of the water and up the shallow bank. She retrieved a small vial of a red liquid from a saddle bag and took a small sip, immediately feeling better. Sylvanas had given it to her that morning. It was a weak mixture of peacebloom and silverleaf that had a soft healing effect on her muscles, taking the edge off the pain. Today’s ride had been far more comfortable as a result, and she was thankful for it.

She was also relieved that Sylvanas was not completely ignoring her anymore as had been the case since they left Fairbreeze Village. Halduron had been overseeing her archery practices as Sylvanas would disappear into the forest and not be seen until morning. She didn’t understand it and no one volunteered an explanation. She had thought things with the general had become more comfortable after their fireside chat a few nights ago, but perhaps she was wrong. Sylvanas had distanced herself, and there was nothing she could do about it. Zendarin had kept her company like the good friend he was, though she found herself only half-listening to him at times. If he noticed, he said nothing about it.

They were close enough to the first of the fires they could hear the crackling of the flames echoing through the trees. The horses had become reluctant to get any closer and were stamping and snorting their disapproval at the situation, causing Sylvanas to order they dismount and go the rest of the way on foot, leaving them behind. They kept moving until they reached a wall of fallen trees. There was no way around and so they climbed over the pile, and then stepped out from the treeline into another world.

The ground immediately before them was bare soil, having been scoured clean of any scrap of plant and foliage possible. Even the stumps from the felled trees had been dug up. It went on for several tree lengths, and then the soil turned black with ash. The fire snapped and crackled a short way beyond that, the heat just about reaching them. A shout of greeting caught their attention, and they could see the group of locals responsible for building the firebreak gathered loosely further away from the fire. Two of them approached Sylvanas and she spoke with them quietly. They were covered in ash that had caked onto their skin and clothes with their sweat. Several of the rangers took some food and water to the other locals who were watching tiredly. They looked defeated. Even when the fire burnt itself out, the damage would take years to recover from.

Alyna spotted something in the burnt ground and found herself moving towards it automatically. She frowned at it in confusion, unsure if she was actually seeing what she was. She bent down and took her gauntlet off, holding her bare palm above the soil. It was still radiating heat from the fire that had ravaged it. She pulled a small dagger from a sheath attached to her belt and started turning the soil over.

“I see you’ve found what I couldn’t exactly explain to you.” Sylvanas’ voice suddenly intruding made her jump, dropping her gauntlet and knife.

Alyna sighed and retrieved her gauntlet, putting it back on. She picked up the knife as Sylvanas knelt down beside her and dug into the soil with her similarly armoured hand, not caring about the ash staining the leather. She exposed an area that should not have been possible after the intense heat of the fire that had passed over it. Green shoots of life were sprouting through the soil before their eyes. These weren’t dormant seeds that had been germinated by the fire as those would take weeks to break the surface. These were small plants growing rapidly before their eyes. Some even had small amounts of colour as if they were developing petals. Once they grew to the size of a fingernail the growth would stop, but they were there nonetheless.

“I’ve not seen plants like these before,” mused Alyna.

“Neither have I, and neither have the locals.” Sylvanas sat back on her ankles and gestured at the ground where the ash met the cleared soil. “They only appear in soil that has been burnt by these fires. If you dig around the soil just a fraction beyond you won’t find anything that shouldn’t already be there.”

Alyna pulled a few of the plants from the soil and stood up, Sylvanas rising with her. She pocketed the samples as Zendarin appeared beside them, gazing at the fire with curiosity, his staff in his hand.

“Fascinating,” he said softly, and he walked towards a burning bush, both women following. He stopped a few feet away and held his hand out towards it, his eyes flashing briefly with the magical power he was clearly channelling. He stopped after a moment and looked at Sylvanas. “Would you be a dear and build a small fire for us please? And a second unlit one would be marvellous as well.”

“You want me to light a fire when you’ve one right there?” she asked flatly.

He rolled his eyes as if the logic was obvious to everyone. “We need a normal fire as a basis for comparison, and a second one created by magic to compare it to.”

Alyna could see Sylvanas clench her jaw, but she said nothing and turned back to the treeline to gather materials for the task. Alyna turned to Zendarin, “Do you have to wind her up like that? She’s a general, not a common labourer.”

He placed a hand on her arm and squeezed apologetically. “I’m sorry. Old habit of mine. She was always so much fun to tease when she was younger because she was so serious.” He shrugged. “Seems some things don’t change; she’s just as serious now as she was then.”

Alyna watched as Sylvanas returned with some kindling for the fires. “I know what you mean.”

Once Sylvanas had lit the first small fire, Zendarin gestured at the second and nodded at Alyna. She focused and ignited the wood with her own magic.

With his staff hung across his back, he clapped his hands together, “Right then!” He raised one hand as he had before and focused on the first fire, then Alyna’s. He then turned to Alyna and gestured that she should follow his lead, and she copied him by raising her hand. He raised an eyebrow and she sighed before drawing her runeblade from the scabbard across her back. He had been curious about Felo’alann and she had indulged him. He had suggested she always hold it as she would have a staff while she was using magic. She could not draw power from it, but he thought it might one day let her and she wouldn’t know unless she was holding it. The theory made sense, so she agreed.

She focused on drawing energy from her surroundings, pulling it into her and channelling it through her body into her hand. She felt Zendarin move close behind her. He reached around her and rested his hand on her forearm and she could feel his power adding to her own. She gasped at the intensity of it and he put his hand on her waist to steady her.

“Easy now, you won’t get more than I know you can handle.” She nodded slightly, and he continued, his voice a low whisper in her ear, “Let’s focus on the first fire. Extend your senses towards it. Push through it, around it, become it.”

She could see the flame react to her examination of it, growing larger and brighter. She was familiar with the exercise as it was commonly used to help fire mages attune to their element, but had never performed it herself. While she felt an affinity with fire, she had not been allowed to specialise yet. Her grandfather had taught her the basics of the exercise before the Council meeting. The addition of Zendarin’s power was letting her see facets she knew would normally be beyond her current level, and she was fascinated by it.

He whispered in her ear, “Beautiful, isn’t it?” She smiled. “Now, focus on your own fire. You should be able to control this one because it’s yours.”

Her own fire was intimately familiar to her, as if her own essence were somehow a part of it. Again, she could see more detail in it than she would have alone. She tried to manipulate it slowly, making it smaller, then larger again. It responded obediently to her commands and the control pleased her immensely. She could get used to this.

“Are you ready for the main fire?”

“I think so.”

He chided lightly, “No thinking it, Alyna.” His hand shifted briefly to her abdomen. “Know it in here. Magic demands respect, but it also requires certainty.” His hand moved back to her waist. “So, are you ready?”

She nodded, “Yes.”

She redirected her senses and was instantly aware of how different this fire was. While it was drawing energy from the forest to burn the fire itself was rooted in magic, she was certain of it. It was also intensely beautiful to her enhanced magical senses to the point of almost being painful to look at. There was a perfection to it that did not exist in normal fire, or even in her own spell-derived flames. There was something else she thought she was sure of.

“It’s magic, but not a spell.”

He didn’t reply immediately, seemingly examining the flames himself. “Hmm. How is tha—”

Alyna cried out as a small part of the fire appeared to lunge for her. She pushed back into Zendarin and they both collapsed into the ash-covered soil, kicking a cloud of it up into the air. They coughed as they inhaled it into their lungs and Alyna felt tears form as it irritated her eyes.

She coughed her words, “Did I do something wrong?”

It was all Zendarin could do to shake his head he was coughing so hard.

Sylvanas had moved to help them but stopped as something on the ground caught her attention. Her eyes narrowed before turning to Alyna. She sat up to look at what Sylvanas had seen, trying to brush the tears from her eyes, spreading black streaks across her face. She had dropped her runeblade when the fire had reached for her and it lay on the ground now. Dancing along the length of the silvery blade was a small part of the fire she had been examining. As it passed over the runes they flared to life, dimming again as the flame moved on. With nothing to feed on, the flame became smaller and smaller until it snuffed itself out.

Even Zendarin had nothing to say, his face just as surprised as her own as they sat on the ground staring at her runeblade for several long moments after the display had ended.

“Well,” he coughed slightly to clear the remaining ash in his lungs, “that was unexpected.” He kept coughing, unable to breathe properly.

Sylvanas waved over a ranger who helped him to his feet before escorting him out of the ash to where he could be tended to. She offered her hand to Alyna to help her up, and she accepted, trying to shake the ash off herself once she was on her feet. Gingerly, she picked up her runeblade and examined it. It seemed none the worse for whatever had happened to it, so she sheathed it quickly before it happened again.

She could tell Sylvanas had questions, but before she could ask Halduron approached them in earnest.

“General, one of the locals has told us something that may explain these fires.”

That surprised both of them. “Oh?”

“It seems one of the nearby runestones has been malfunctioning for at least several days.”

Sylvanas’ eyebrows shot up. “What? How are we only just finding out about this?”

Halduron shook his head in frustration, “They thought we already knew.”

They both looked to Alyna. She contemplated the scenario before replying, “It’s … possible. The fire is definitely rooted in magic, but no person has cast a spell to create it.”

That was enough for Sylvanas. A damaged runestone was serious enough, but if it was causing the fires it had to be investigated immediately. “Which runestone?”

“Shan’dor.”

“Let’s go.”

***

They had made good time back to the river, retrieving their horses along the way. After crossing back over it, Sylvanas had led them north east at a brisk trot. They would follow the pristine water towards its source for a few hours, and then turn north for the rest of the way to Runestone Shan’dor. There were four runestones in all, and they marked the original boundary of Quel’Thalas when the high elves had settled in the region nearly ten thousand years ago. They were not just marker stones; they provided vital protection against old enemies.

Ten thousand years ago, being quel’dorei had meant something quite different. There had only been one huge continent in the world, Kalimdor, and only one race of elves, the kaldorei, or night elves. They had existed for countless ages along the shores of the Well of Eternity, a very large pool of dazzling arcane energy thought to be the lifeblood of the world-soul. The actual size of the Well was inconsequential as it existed in a thousand places in a thousand dimensions simultaneously, and the kaldorei had prospered greatly from its power. When Queen Azshara ascended, she ordered her followers, the Highborne, to plumb the depths of its magic, with a terrible price. Their reckless exploration of arcane magic drew a powerful enemy to their world, the Dark Titan Sargeras, master of the Burning Legion. The demons had invaded via a portal powered by the Well, created by Azshara and the Highborne, laying waste to everything they touched. The Well of Eternity had eventually imploded, destroying eighty percent of Kalimdor.

While the Burning Legion had been defeated, the kaldorei were devastated as a people. Most of the Highborne were killed as the world sundered. Those whom had aided their brethren to defeat the Legion were not forgiven for their role in attracting them in the first place, and were banished from the remaining piece of Kalimdor. They had set sail across the new great sea created by the destruction of the massive continent, and eventually found themselves in the land they named Quel’Thalas. Now known as high elves, they created the Sunwell from a small remnant of the Well of Eternity they had carried with them in a vial.

While the kaldorei banned the practice of arcane magic, the quel’dorei continued. They built a series of monolithic runestones to prevent the Legion from detecting their use of magic. The runestones also dampened all magic that was not wielded by the quel’dorei themselves, providing added protection from invaders.

And now one of them was malfunctioning, leaving them vulnerable.

Feeling her horse start to tire, Sylvanas signalled for the unit to drop to a walk. She deliberately held her horse back until Alyna drew level, not minding in the slightest that she had incidentally blocked Zendarin from doing the same. She glanced over at Alyna, meeting her eyes briefly.

“That was good work back there.”

Alyna shrugged sullenly, “We don’t know anything more than we did before.”

“I beg to differ. We learnt that a mage didn’t started the fires, and that this is far more unusual than we had first thought.” She gave Alyna a brief smile. “You also managed a spell that should have been beyond your ability.”

“Thanks, but I couldn’t have done that without Zendarin,” she replied dismissively.

Sylvanas kept her eyes ahead as she said, “I wouldn’t be so sure of that if I were you.” She could see Alyna frown at her out of the corner of her eye.

“Look,” Alyna started, sounding annoyed, “I know you two don’t get on but there’s no need to disparage him.”

She raised an eyebrow at the outburst. “I’m not. It’s just a simple fact that as an arcane mage he cannot read or manipulate fire the way you did.” She gave Alyna a wry grin, “I don’t know that much about magic, but I do know that.” The only thing Zendarin could have done was add power to Alyna’s spell. He had no ability to help her control it as whatever affinity he’d had for fire had been sacrificed once he had attuned to arcane magic. Why he had tried in the first place, Sylvanas had no idea. She dismissed it as her cousin being his atypical self.

Alyna looked shocked. “I … I didn’t know.”

Now it was Sylvanas’ turn to turn her head in surprise. “You didn’t know? What have you two been doing the past twenty years for you to not know he’s an arcane mage?”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she suddenly didn’t want to know the answer. The rangers riding immediately behind them seemed to drop back from the two women a bit to give them room to talk. Sylvanas cursed them for being so aware of the possible situation, and was glad Zendarin had dropped to ride near the back of the unit and out of earshot.

Alyna looked down at her horse’s neck. “Talking, mostly.” The younger woman sighed, “And not about magic. I generally don’t like to talk about magic outside of my lessons.”

Sylvanas replied slowly, “I see.” She pinched the bridge of her nose to ease thoughts she would rather not finish forming. Instead, she said, “I need you to tell me everything you know about your runeblade.”

Alyna blinked at the change of subject but eventually nodded, “Okay. Anything specific?”

“How long have you had it?”

She frowned slightly, before letting her chin drop to her chest. Sylvanas barely heard her words, “You don’t remember.”

“Remember what?”

She sighed. “The last letter I sent you before you …” she trailed off.

Sylvanas felt her eyebrows knit together as she tried to remember. Their last meeting had been a planned visit. She had been looking forward to it, and vaguely recalled a letter arriving a few weeks before she left for Quel’Danas. Alyna had written about how eager she was to see Sylvanas. Their separation had been one of the longest this time as Sylvanas had not been able to get away from her duties and there had been no Council meetings to use as an excuse to travel. Thinking on the letter, she realised there had been an excitement about it. Alyna had something to tell her, and she wanted to do it in person. It was one of the few times she could recall Alyna being anywhere near happy in the letters she had written. They were usually letters begging Sylvanas to take her away.

She had never found out what the surprise was. Between the letter arriving and Sylvanas reuniting with Alyna, she had been blackmailed. When she had eventually seen her lover, she had not let her speak, scared she would not have the courage to do what she must if she allowed her to talk first. She had immediately broken off their relationship stating their time apart had allowed her space to think, and she preferred to be single. The distance was unacceptable.

She replied quietly, as if speaking any louder had the power to make her guilt even more unbearable than it already was, “Your happy surprise was the runeblade.”

Alyna just nodded. She was clearly putting some effort into controlling her reaction. Sylvanas wondered just what else she had managed to do to Alyna without realising. Her thoughts were dangerously close to wandering down that path when Alyna interrupted them, her words devoid of emotion, “Master Falcar gave it to me. When we realised my natural leaning was towards fire, he decided to pass it on to me. It’s called Felo’alann.”

Sylvanas nodded slightly, “A great honour. He clearly thinks highly of your abilities.” Alyna looked away towards the river and didn’t reply. They both knew they were abilities she did not want to have, no matter the honour. Sylvanas wished she could leave her to her thoughts, but had one more question. “Did he say anything about the origins of your blade?”

Alyna shook her head, “No. I asked a few times, but he told me that was part of my journey.” She made a sound of disbelief. “He seems to think it will tell me when it’s ready, as if the damn thing can talk.”

Sylvanas’ instinct was to make light of the last comment, but she knew Alyna was not in the mood for jokes. Instead, she said, “I’ve known of a few runeblades, but I’ve never heard of one that can attract fire and then seemingly play with it.”

“If I could tell you more, I would. It’s dead in my hand as it is.”

Sylvanas decided a reply would not help matters, so remained silent.

They continued that way for the next few hours until they reached Shan’dor. Sylvanas signalled for the rest of the unit to halt as she stared at the area before her.

“What the …?” started Alyna in confusion.

Shan’dor stood within a circle of other standing stones, rising to almost four times the height of an elf, with intricate symbols carved into the otherwise smooth surface. The ground around it had been charred black. Purple energy crackled all around the runestone, occasionally lashing out to strike the ground around it. Smoke would rise from each point it hit, and it was clear that had there been anything combustible it would have been set on fire. But there was nothing left to burn.

The rangers spread out to survey the area, staying clear of the blackened zone. Sylvanas coaxed her jittery mount around towards a small home a few dozen meters away, Alyna and Zendarin in tow. Just as they reached it, the door opened and a haggard male elf stepped out. His short, spikey pale blonde hair was unkempt and his simple green robe was heavily creased. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles.

“General! Did the Council send you?”

She looked down at the beleaguered Runewarden and shook her head, “No, Penrath, but I came as soon as I heard. You’re expecting help from the Council?” He paced before them, muttering to himself, his sudden movements startling the horses. Sylvanas backed them away and had them dismount. Handing her reins to Alyna, she approached the Runewarden slowly, “Penrath?” She placed a hand on his arm and he jumped. His pale blue eyes locked onto hers.

“The Council? Yes. I hope so. I sent for help well over a week ago. I think it was a week.  Perhaps it was longer than a week. Or shorter.” He paused before asking her innocently, “What day is it?”

“Calm down, Penrath. Tell me what happened.”

He fidgeted as he spoke, unable to remain still. “I … I don’t know. I was asleep, and then I wasn’t. I didn’t know what had woken me up, but then the window was orange, the light, in the middle of the night, and I could smell the burning. I tried to do something but nothing I did worked, but it didn’t spread. But it’s not right! Can you see it’s not right?”

“I can see it, Penrath. It just started doing this?”

He nodded rapidly, “Yes they do that sometimes. Not exactly like this, this is bad, very bad, but they misbehave. We tend to them, nurture them, make sure they have what they need.”

Sylvanas was used to the runewardens thinking of their charges as living entities. She used to roll her eyes at the notion, but what did she know about the kind of magic that erected them? For all she knew, they were.

“Can we help fix it?”

He looked at her like she had grown a second head. “No! No. Not you. It requires arcane magic.” He looked past her and fixed his gaze on Alyna. “You it will like.”

“Me?” asked Alyna in surprise, “I’m not an arcane mage.”

“You are not attuned. That does not matter. It will like you.” He seemed comforted by the knowledge.

“If you need arcane magic, I can be of assistance.”

Penrath looked at Zendarin, noticing him for the first time. He squinted as he focused on him. “It should accept you.”

Zendarin began to reply but Sylvanas held up her hand to forestall his ego. She turned back to Penrath, “Can you fix Shan’dor?”

Penrath looked from Alyna, to Zendarin, and then back to Alyna, holding her gaze for a long while. “No,” he said simply. Sylvanas was about to ask what the point of the last few minutes were when he added, “But we can put it to sleep until more come to help fix it.”

She blinked. “Sleep? Turn it off?”

He cocked his head, “If you prefer that term, yes.”

Sylvanas shook her head, “Oh, no. I’m not turning off one of our runestones to leave us vulnerable.”

He shrugged indifferently. “It is focused on other things right now anyway. Turning it off just stops the chaos.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re saying that the runestone has been ineffective the entire time it has been malfunctioning?”

“Yes.”

As soon as she was able, she was going to investigate how she could not have known about this event sooner. She wanted to rant about this but knew doing so now served no purpose and would upset the fragile Runewarden. He was delicate to deal with at the best of times, but with the last few days he’d had she didn’t want to stress him further.

She sighed before retrieving her mount from Alyna’s care. “When can you start?”

He smiled for the first time since they arrived, the gesture lighting up his youthful face. Runewardens were groomed from a very young age as it took decades to develop their close relationship to their unique magic. “Now!” He led the way back to the runestone.

As they approached the edge, Alyna asked, “Before we do this, would you mind if I try something?”

She gave Alyna a curious look. “To fix the runestone?”

Alyna laughed, and Sylvanas felt a familiar warmth inside at the sound. “No, no. I want to see what kind of fire it produces.”

Sylvanas looked at Penrath who just shrugged. He couldn’t have known why Alyna wanted to run the test but he had no objection to it, so Sylvanas gave Alyna a nod.

She watched as the other woman unslung her bow and nocked an arrow. She noticed that Alyna drew the bowstring with an ease she’d not had a week ago, and was quietly proud. The results spoke of the hard training she had observed through the trees. While she left their camp in the evenings, she had never gone far, keeping watch from high up in the trees. With skill, Alyna fired three arrows in rapid succession to form a tight grouping within the blackened circle.

Before she had even managed to replace her bow across her back an arc of purple energy flashed out from the runestone and struck the arrows, setting them alight. Alyna held her hand out towards them and stilled. The natural glow of her dark blue eyes intensified as she channelled her magic, and Sylvanas could feel it rushing around her, despite not being a mage herself. Penrath had fixated on her, clearly fascinated. Runewardens were highly sensitive to the magic within the runestones, but also within people, which had allowed him to identify Alyna as unattuned. She wondered what his curiosity meant.

Alyna dropped her hand and frowned before turning to Sylvanas, “It’s not the same fire that’s been destroying the forest.”

Sylvanas nodded her understanding. It seemed it was just too simple for the runestone to be the answer. She moved away from the mages with their three horses as Penrath began guiding them through the ritual required to shut down Shan’dor. She was assured it would not take long, and it didn’t, and they were all back in the saddle heading back the way they had come within the hour. She figured the best thing to do was to find more fires to see if Alyna could learn anything more from them.

As they rode, they noticed the animals were calmer, including their own mounts. They weren’t fidgeting or stumbling as much, which she was sure Alyna was grateful for. Sylvanas realised it must have been the runestone that had been upsetting the wildlife, and hoped that meant the lynxes would leave Fairbreeze Village alone now.

They continued until an hour before sunset when Sylvanas decided they needed to water the horses, and themselves, before setting up camp. As the others milled about, she approached the water’s edge with her flask, then paused. It was faint, but she could hear something coming towards them from the other side of the river. People were running. She put her fingers to her lips and gave a whistled command, and everyone immediately moved into the trees, Zendarin being dragged by a ranger. While Halduron’s unit were specialised in melee combat, some still had bows. Those who did loaded them now, as did Alyna, and the others readied their spears.

Two female elves burst out of the trees on the opposite bank, and just as they did, a large green troll dropped from the canopy to half-land on the taller one. The troll was easily twice her height and densely muscled, and she collapsed onto the grass. He laughed at her as his pack mates dropped out of the trees to flank his sides.

Sylvanas stepped out of the trees and raised her bow just as the lead troll took a swipe at the prone elf. She twisted out of his reach and drew a sword. The troll suddenly froze, and then keeled over backwards, Sylvanas’ arrow buried in his neck. Similar arrows protruded from the other trolls, and within the blink of an eye they were all dead on the ground. The two elves spun around to gaze at the rangers that had saved their lives, bows still quivering from having released their arrows. They too, were dressed as rangers. The taller one, who was now picking herself up, had long blonde hair, slightly lighter than Sylvanas’, but otherwise similar. The other elf had such pale blonde hair it appeared silver. The two shared similar looking blue eyes, that were the same shape as those Sylvanas had. The taller elf raised her bow in salute, and Sylvanas smiled at them, returning the gesture with her own weapon.

She knew these two rangers intimately, and she called to them, “Welcome home, Alleria! I see you found our young Vereesa! Now, what is this trouble you have brought us?”

Alleria smiled and shook her head, “I did not bring it, Sylvanas! I had actually hoped to outrun it. But I do bring possible salvation.” She looked at the dead trolls around her and at her youngest sister, who was looking very pale and was resolutely not looking at the corpses. She turned back to call to Sylvanas again, “I must speak to the Council!”

Sylvanas sighed. She had a bad feeling about the sudden reappearance of her older sibling, particularly as she was alone and not with her unit. “Get yourselves over here first!”

She received a pair of nods in response, and Sylvanas knew this was going to be a long evening.


	6. Chapter 6

Sylvanas sighed at the severed troll’s head Alleria had brought with her.

“Was that necessary?”

Alleria was resolute. “I’m not sure the Council will accept what I have to say, but they’ll take this seriously enough.”

“You’re going to walk into the council chamber and throw a troll’s bloody head down in front of them to prove a point?”

“Yes.”

Sylvanas chuckled her amusement. “That’s one meeting I actually wouldn’t mind attending.” She gave her sister a rough sack to put the head in. She was not squeamish, but she had no desire to gaze upon the object longer than required. The unit were setting up camp a few minutes into the trees while Sylvanas waited for her sisters to cross the river.

As Alleria secured the head and washed the gore from herself in the river, Sylvanas turned to their youngest sister. “Are you okay?” The incident with the trolls would have been Vereesa’s first tussle with them since her recent graduation into the Farstriders.

Vereesa nodded, having regained some of the colour in her cheeks. “It was not quite what I’d expected.”

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Thanks to Alleria.” Her relief was clear in her voice. “I was trying to get back to Tranquillien and she ran into me just before the trolls attacked.”

Sylvanas frowned. “What were you doing alone?” Rangers rarely worked alone, and when they did it was because of their experience and skill. A fresh graduate should always have a more experienced partner with them.

“I was on patrol with three others from my unit, and we got separated. Or, well, they just disappeared one by one. I tried to signal the rest of the unit but no one responded. Now I … I think the trolls were picking us off.” Her voice cracked and she looked dejected. Sylvanas didn’t blame her as it meant her three friends were dead, possibly her entire unit.

She pulled her sister into a hug, feeling trembling arms wrap around her waist. She stroked her silvery hair gently until she was sure her sister felt calmer. “I’m sorry about your friends, Vereesa. I promise we’ll try to bring them home so they can be laid to rest properly.” Sylvanas was angry at what the trolls had done, but needed to maintain her even temper for her sister.

Vereesa nodded and unwrapped herself from the embrace just as Alleria joined them, freshly washed. She sent Vereesa on ahead towards the camp as she walked beside Alleria.

“The trolls don’t normally come this far into our territory, Alleria. I want to think this pack was just being reckless, but you’re going to tell me otherwise, aren’t you?”

Alleria bit her lip as she contemplated her answer. “You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Sylvanas sighed. She hated being wrong, particularly admitting to it. “You were right, I take it? About the Horde?”

“It’s worse than that. They’re already nearly here, and the trolls have joined them.”

Sylvanas stopped and grabbed Alleria’s arm, pulling her around to face her. “They’re coming _here_? To Quel’Thalas?” The only viable entrance into Quel’Thalas from the human lands was via the closed Elfgate that guarded the Thalassian Pass. If an army were to approach the gate, Sylvanas would have been notified. Any half-decent ranger would have been able to track their movements to locate her.

Alleria winced and Sylvanas let go of her arm with an apologetic look. “The orcs have bypassed the Elfgate by climbing over the mountains to the south west. The forest trolls are showing them the way.” A flicker of fear crossed the older sister’s face. “They’ve been united, Sylvanas. The troll tribes are no longer fighting amongst themselves, and they’re all coming for us.”

Sylvanas was rooted to the floor. The Horde had numbered over five thousand the last she knew, and the trolls could muster at least half that number if they had united. Part of their strategy in combatting them had been to keep the tribes fighting each other as it made them more manageable. Sylvanas had less than a thousand rangers. She could bolster that with mages, priests, and civilian volunteers, but she’d get nowhere near the numbers required. The figures were staggering. The capital city would be safe behind the second Elfgate known as Ban'dinoriel, or ‘Gatekeeper’, but the rest of their lands looked set to fall.

Her mouth was dry as she asked, “You said you brought possible salvation?” She’d had no idea what Alleria had meant by the statement at the time, but now she knew they would need it.

“The human Alliance is a few days behind them and closing. Turalyon has a couple thousand soldiers at his command, and he is coming to help us. I passed through the Elfgate and had it opened for them.”

Sylvanas raised an eyebrow at the familiar use of the man’s name. “Turalyon?”

Alleria started and then flustered for a moment. Sylvanas was instantly curious about the human. “Uhm, Sir Turalyon is the second-in-command of the Alliance forces. The Horde split their forces around the Hinterlands so the Alliance were forced to do the same. Lord Anduin Lothar commands the section that remained to clear up the orcs there, and Sir Turalyon has chased the remaining Horde north towards Quel’Thalas.”

They continued their walk towards the camp. “Well, at least we don’t have to face the whole Horde at once,” Sylvanas added dryly. It was no real consolation with the addition of the trolls but she would take whatever good news there was to be had. “I’ve a couple of mages with me. I’ll ask them to make a portal to Silvermoon for you once you’ve eaten something.”

“I saw, and thank you. Do I want to know how our cousin ended up with you? And was that Alyna I saw?” she asked in disbelief.

“No. Yes. And it’s too long a story for the time we have.” As far as she was concerned, she was happy to not have to answer her sister’s questions on the subject at all, so she kept it professional. “After you’ve told the Council we’re being invaded I need you to get to Lor’themar as quickly as possible. I want his company guarding the capital, but I need him to bring a couple of units to rendezvous with the rest of us. If he can find volunteers along the way, all the better. Then you’re to get your own company and bring them to Tranquillien as quickly as you can. I’ll send word to everyone else tonight.”

They reached the camp at that point and Sylvanas looked around, assessing her rangers. She would allow them time to eat, and then send them on their various messenger missions. The rest would leave for Tranquillien and keep riding until they got there. There would be time to sleep later. She called for everyone to come close so she could brief them. They ate their food in relative silence, each keeping their concerns about the near future to themselves as they absorbed the situation. After opening a portal for Alleria, they packed up the camp and mounted their horses, Vereesa sitting behind another ranger. After sending the messengers off in all directions, there were only a few of them left. Sylvanas, Alyna, Zendarin, Halduron, Vereesa and three rangers turned south to cross the river again towards Tranquillien.

They rode through the night and would need to keep riding through the day and into that night as well. Sylvanas felt her body sag at the punishment. This was her second endurance test in two weeks. It was mid-afternoon and they were moving at a slow walk to let the horses recover a little. Quel’dorei Steeds were predominantly very light dapple greys, with dark grey manes and tails, though darker greys and almost black colours were possible in their coat. The males had a line of long dark fur that ran from the front of their neck down between their front legs, and a large jagged horn protruding from their forehead, while the females had a smaller horn. Both genders had thick long white hair from the back of their knees to their hooves that was a nightmare to keep groomed. They were solidly built animals trained for stamina over speed, so the long trek south was well within their abilities.

They rounded a corner in the main dirt road they were following, and Sylvanas was shocked out of her near-unconscious state. A trader’s cart had been destroyed and the horse pulling it slaughtered. Amongst the scattered goods were the bloody bodies of five elves, one barely having reached her teens. They all immediately dismounted and armed themselves, Sylvanas preferring her bow over her swords. She inched forward with an arrow nocked, looking around carefully. The trees were thick and dense here, blotting out the sky and making it a perfect place for an ambush.

She moved around to the child, her heart aching at the sight. None of them had been armed. They were a trading family travelling down what should have been a safe road. None of their goods appeared to have been taken.

Vereesa gasped beside her and pointed at one of the adults, “His ears are gone!”

Halduron was staring into the trees, his spear and shield in his hands. “Trolls. They take them as souvenirs,” he said grimly.

Sylvanas noted a partial footprint in the blood. Trolls had very large two-toed feet and didn’t wear shoes. She followed it cautiously towards a tree. Some drops of red elven blood were dotted beside the prints, most likely having run off a weapon.

Even Zendarin was visibly moved by the scene, his voice shaking, “We can’t just leave them like this.”

Sylvanas agreed. “I don’t intend to.” She froze, having heard the faintest of sounds that did not belong with the background noise of the forest. Halduron had noticed the change in her body language and she made eye contact with him to confirm his unasked question. She looked around, trying to appear casual. There was an extra drop of blood on the ground. She was sure of it.

_They were still in the trees!_

Keeping her voice calm, she continued what she had been saying to Zendarin, though she raised her eyebrows at Halduron and jutted her elbow slightly at the nearest tree, hoping he would understand. With a troll in the tree above her she couldn’t risk freeing a hand from her loaded bow to use their ranger sign language. “We can remove the rest of their goods and place them into the cart. One of our horses can be hooked up and we’ll take them to Tranquillien.”

As she spoke, Halduron used a hand to warn the others of the danger above, using his shield to disguise the movement from the trolls. Just as she finished her last word she pulled the bowstring of her bow and aimed up into the tree roundabout where she thought the troll might be, and fired. A surprised grunt was followed by a large green body falling to the floor with a sickening crunch.

The elves quickly arranged themselves in a defensive circle and readied themselves. No one moved save for Sylvanas reloading her bow.

An axe came flying from high up in the trees towards Sylvanas and Halduron pulled to the side to catch it with his shield. She didn’t have time to thank him as the trolls dropped down to the ground with ease and converged on them. They were all male and heavily muscled. Their bodies were gangly and slouched over, though when they stretched to their full height they were over eight feet tall. Large tusks protruded from their upper lips, and they had long swept back ears that twitched at every sound. Their hair styles varied from braids to a wild mohawk in colours from reds and yellows to greens and blues. Each held axes, daggers or spears in their large three-fingered hands. They were sneering and hurling taunts in their guttural language. All rangers learnt at least the basics of the troll language, and the trolls were aware of this. They were evenly numbered, but the trolls had size on their side.

They attacked.

Sylvanas loosed her arrow and caught her target in the throat before he had taken more than a step towards her. Unable to reload, she swung her bow at the troll bearing down on the ranger beside her, managing to catch him on the side of his head. It didn’t bring him down, but it gave the male ranger time to thrust his sword into the troll’s chest. She could hear the sounds of battle around her, her senses heightened by the flood of adrenaline coursing through her body.

Alyna cried out and Sylvanas felt her heart leap into her throat. She whirled around to see Alyna on the ground, a troll with his hand around her throat and a dagger raised above her chest.

Time slowed for Sylvanas. Her hand moved to her quiver and she felt the faint tickle of a feather against her forefinger. She grabbed the tip with her fingers and straightened her arm to withdraw the arrow. The troll’s hand was moving downwards, the point of the dagger gleaming as it made for Alyna’s throat. Sylvanas pressed the nock of the arrow onto the bowstring and began drawing it back, using the forefinger of her other hand to steady the shaft. As she drew the string, she held her breath. Ordinarily, she would breathe in with the draw but she was moving too quickly and it would throw off her aim. As she reached the fullest extent of the draw, she held her position for a split second so she could aim at the troll, not wanting to hit Alyna.

The troll cried out in agony, his scream splitting the air and causing time to rush back in for Sylvanas, who had not yet released her arrow despite barely a second having passed since Alyna’s cry. The dagger dropped from his hand and he fell to the side and away from Alyna, his hands slapping frantically at his stomach.

He was on fire.

The flames quickly spread through his clothing and he rolled around screaming, to no avail. He crawled a couple of feet and collapsed, his body twitching violently a few times before going still.

Everyone looked at Alyna, the other trolls already dead. She had covered her cheek with one hand, having been scratched by the falling dagger, and was gazing in shock at the troll. Sylvanas quickly placed her arrow back in her quiver and made to move to her side, but Zendarin beat her to it. He helped her sit up and coaxed her to remove her hand from her cheek.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “It’s just a scratch. It won’t even leave a scar.” He smiled reassuringly.

Alyna threw her arms around his neck. She was shaking. He dropped to his knees and held her as she regained her senses. Alyna had been an experienced ranger, but coming so close to death could unnerve anyone.

Sylvanas swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to breathe properly again, having been scared witless by the impending harm to Alyna. She looked around and was surprised to see none of the rest of her people were hurt, including Vereesa who was being spoken to quietly by Halduron.

She walked slowly over to one of the rangers who was turning over the trolls to make sure they were dead. Sylvanas’ eyes narrowed when she saw they all had threaded a fresh elven ear through a cord which was worn around their necks. Some had several ears threaded that had previous been dried. She closed her eyes briefly. This family had not been their only victims. She wondered how many packs were out there killing her people, and felt cold fury well up inside her core. She opened her eyes and bent down over the troll. She pulled out her dagger and cut the cord angrily from his neck. She gave the macabre necklace to the startled ranger.

She let her fury be heard in her words, “Collect them all. I will not leave these creatures with any part of our people.”

The ranger nodded solemnly and went about her task. Sylvanas began the work of hanging the bodies from the trees along the road. As others realised what she was doing, they began to help. They would serve as a warning to other trolls of what would happen to them if they’re caught, but also to travellers that there was troll activity in the area. The local wildlife would make quick work of them so there were no biological hazards to consider.

They next set about following her previous suggestion before the attack, and began to clear the cart of its items. After turning the cart around, they loaded the bodies of the slain family into the cart, as well as the trophy necklaces bearing their ears. In case there were surviving members of the family, Sylvanas had them reload the cart with the items they deemed most valuable, without crowding the bodies disrespectfully. She then pulled her own horse over to the cart and hitched him to it. With the load he was about to pull she couldn’t ride him, and she decided against riding tandem with someone else. She didn’t want to be that physically close to any one right now, so she walked. She reasoned it would help keep her awake if she wasn’t rocking along in a saddle.

Nine and a half hours later, at over an hour past midnight, the exhausted group reached the outskirts of Tranquillien. A ranger from the village approached them and gasped when he saw Sylvanas. He tried to aid her by putting his arm around her waist for support, but she refused him. She had made it this far, she was damn well going to walk herself into a bed. The ranger looked at Halduron who shrugged. He summoned the rest of his unit and they were escorted into the village centre.

By the time the local mayor arrived, the whole village had been woken up and were trying to gather around the weary group. There were cries of dismay at the bodies, and a big burly elf hugged Sylvanas for bringing them home. She was too tired to avoid the gesture, though she managed to pull herself away as he began to cry on her shoulder, passing him over to a willing relative. Ranger Captain Menora came to their rescue and escorted them all to the ranger barracks. Sylvanas sent the rest to bed, and soon followed after briefing Menora on the new threat they faced, leaving the captain to make the necessary preparations needed for her company.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity for Sylvanas and the rangers. Equipment was checked, and training was increased with all the intensity that came with preparing for war. Volunteers had come forward to help fight, and they needed to be given some basic training. The villagers helped them prepare by gathering materials for arrows and forging additional weapons for them. Food stuffs arrived from neighbouring villages to help feed the assembling army, and Sylvanas sent full units out on patrol to flush out the packs of trolls that had strayed from their main army.

The rangers began arriving from all corners of Quel’Thalas. Menora’s company were the easiest to bring in. Next to arrive was Sylvanas’ own company from Farstrider Enclave which was two days away by horse. Lor’themar would be another few days at best, having the furthest to travel and orders to recruit along the way. A week after they arrived in Tranquillien, and earlier than expected, Alleria rode into the centre of the village with her lieutenants just as the sun was beginning to set on another busy day.

Sylvanas hugged her sister in greeting.

“Have you slept at all? I can’t believe you’re already here.”

A couple of her lieutenants were hiding smiles and she shrugged good naturedly. “Let’s just say there were one or two incidents of me falling asleep in the saddle, and leave it at that, shall we?”

Sylvanas tried to contain her own smile. “My company has set up camp just south of the village, along with Menora’s and a few volunteers. I want to keep us all together, so let’s get you all settled in.”

Alleria gave orders to her lieutenants, and they rode off to fetch their units. She turned to Sylvanas to ask, “If Menora’s company are camping, does that mean the barracks are empty?”

“Of people, yes. We’re using them as stores for what we’ll need for when we march. Why?”

“I have brought more than just my company. The High King was not pleased to hear the trolls have massed against us, so he has given you full use of the magi and priesthood. I have a couple dozen with me, but the rest will be staying in Silvermoon to defend the capital, at the Council’s request.”

She pulled a tube from her saddle bag and handed it to Sylvanas. They both knew what was in it without opening it; a scroll bearing a Royal Decree from the High King and the Council giving the ranger general complete power to fight this war how she deemed fit.

Sylvanas shook her head in disbelief. “Ban'dinoriel has protected the city for thousands of years and is powered by the Sunwell. Those magi would have been far more useful here.”

Alleria held her hands up defensively. “I know. I tried to convince them of that, but I had to leave without them. The ones I have are mostly volunteers who wished to fight instead of sit behind a shield, so they won’t be too much trouble.”

“But?”

“But, they’re not used to camping and have moaned the entire way down. I figure a few nights in bunks should shut them up for a bit before we’re on the move again.”

Sylvanas feigned frustration towards her sibling. “First you bring me blood-thirsty trolls, and now you bring me pampered mages.”

“Just wait ‘til you see what I’ve got you for your birthday,” Alleria deadpanned.

Sylvanas swatted her sister’s arm, getting a chuckle in return. “Go get settled in. Tomorrow, we need to start planning. Since you know this Turalyon so well I’m going to need you at your best.”

If she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn she saw Alleria blush before she turned away.


	7. Chapter 7

A few more days passed in a similar style to the others and Sylvanas was growing impatient. Her scouts had told her the Horde had been guided to a point south west of Tranquillien, near to her family’s home of Windrunner Spire. The trolls were gathering at Zul’Aman to the south east, the home of the Amani tribe. It would seem the troll who had united the tribes together was the Amani leader, Zul’jin. They were a particularly brutal tribe that had once ruled an empire. The empire and the elves had clashed nearly three thousand years ago in a great war, and the only reason the elves had not been wiped out was because the humans of Arathor had agreed to ally with them and came to their rescue, forming the basis for the blood debt. Part of the agreement had also led to the elves teaching one hundred humans how to wield arcane magic, a decision that was still deeply divisive amongst her people.

There had been one bright point to all the preparations, and that was her few minutes each evening with Alyna. She had suggested Alyna could go back to Quel’Danas instead of march to war, but she had refused, wanting to help any way she could. The younger woman had been training with Zendarin and the recently arrived mages to improve her combat magic. Her cousin had suggested it after the ambush, and Sylvanas had thought it a sensible idea. Alyna had become more comfortable with her bow again, but she was a promising mage despite her resistance to it, and any advantage in a fight was worth nurturing. She wasn’t dressed like a mage and it would surprise any who fought her, as the troll had found out first hand.

After her lessons Alyna could be found beside one of the main camp fires eating her dinner. She could have chosen any of the numerous fires the rangers congregated around, and it was not lost on Sylvanas that she chose the one the general frequented. They did not get much time to talk as something would always pull one of them away, but Sylvanas cherished what time they did get.

Sylvanas smiled as she neared the fire for her own dinner, Alyna already seated on the ground with her back against a log. Sylvanas declined some of the roasting meat for now, instead taking a handful of berries from a bowl before settling down beside the smiling apprentice.

Alyna watched her eat for a few moments before observing, “You’re getting antsy.”

Sylvanas scoffed. “I don’t get ‘antsy’.” She raised an eyebrow and inclined her head as she admitted, “Impatient perhaps, but not antsy.”

“They’re the same thing, you know,” replied Alyna, amusement tinging her words.

She changed the subject. “How’s your training coming along?”

Alyna pulled a face that conveyed her dislike beyond mere words. “The magisters are insufferably full of themselves.”

“Despite their short comings, have you managed to learn anything?” Sylvanas was aware of the attitude the magisters had brought with them. Even her cousin had avoided being associated with them by sleeping in the camp instead of the barracks. That had earnt him some grudging respect from the Farstriders. Alyna had been somewhat caught in the middle and had been repeatedly tapped to act as a liaison between the two groups.

Alyna sighed. “I suppose so.” She thought about her answer a little deeper before admitting, “Yes. I think I’ve also got an idea or two on how I can use my magic to help you and the rangers.”

“Oh?” Sylvanas had always been impressed by Alyna’s ability to think in terms others rarely could. Combining arcane magic and ranger arts could be a potent weapon if she had a way to do it. “I’m interested. Why don’t you come up with a proposal and you can run it by me first thing in the morning with the captains and senior lieutenants present?”

“Sure,” agreed Alyna. She gave Sylvanas a genuine smile that made the general’s heart skip a few beats even though she knew logically that had not actually happened.

Sylvanas felt guilty. The fireside chats had made her aware of how deeply she had missed the other woman in her life. They had been lovers, but they had been friends first, and she missed that aspect just as much. She knew the terms her blackmailer had laid down were for her to leave Alyna alone completely, but she had decided to see if a friendship was still possible if she made it clear she would leave the other woman alone romantically. Not that it would be easy for Sylvanas, but she thought it a workable compromise.

That meant she had to come clean to Alyna about a few aspects of the last thirty years, and that needed to start now.

She looked down at the few berries left in her hand and hesitated a few times before finally finding the words. “Alyna, I need to tell you something. About your grandfather.” She felt the other woman’s gaze against her cheek and her tongue suddenly felt twice as large in her mouth as it did before. “I … have enjoyed these evenings with you, and, I would like to see if we can be friends again, but, uh, there is something you should know.”

Alyna let the words hang in the air a few moments before replying evenly, “I would like to have your friendship again as well. What about my grandfather?”

“Well.” Sylvanas was nervous, a state she was decidedly unaccustomed to. “When you moved to Quel’Danas and your father was not taking your training seriously enough to give you a good mentor I … I went to your grandfather for help.”

Alyna sounded incredulous, but kept her voice down, “You did _what_?”

Sylvanas turned to look at her, her voice tinged with pain, “You were _so_ unhappy, Alyna. I knew a lot of that was because you were being forced to become a mage, but I also knew you were hurt your father didn’t take an interest in you. Your older brother and sisters were already established magi and he was focused on them, and you were an afterthought.” Alyna was silent as she glared angrily at Sylvanas. “I knew if you were to have any chance at happiness, you needed a fair chance to make something of yourself as a mage. That was not going to happen while being passed between your father’s lackeys.”

Various emotions passed over Alyna’s features, the dancing firelight enhancing her beauty as she worked through her thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was interfering. And you would have been angry.”

“You’re damn right I would have been angry!” she hissed, “I _am_ angry! If you were going to interfere with _my_ life you should have taken me away from there instead of pushing me into the clutches of another mentor!” They both knew Falcar had become anything but just another mentor.

Sylvanas recoiled into herself and turned away from Alyna to look into the fire. Part of her knew Alyna was right. She had been taken to Quel’Danas to learn to control her magic, but she had never asked herself if there had been other ways to do that without ripping her away from her life. Her father had commanded, and they had all rushed to obey, including Sylvanas. It was the way of things amongst the quel’dorei. If you had magic, you trained to become a mage no matter how small your talent. Some remained apprentices all their lives as a result, but was that really a solution? Could they be trained to not be a danger to society and then released to live how they wished?

“I must have made things difficult for you.”

The sullen words penetrated Sylvanas’ thoughts and she glanced back at Alyna. “The long periods apart were hard, but you don’t mean that do you?”

Alyna shook her head. “When you did visit, I was so bitter. So angry. And jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“You had what I wanted. Not the general part, the ranger bit. As much as I wanted to see you, you also reminded me of what I’d lost. I was too wrapped up in that to realise what I had kept.” She looked at Sylvanas almost shyly and said softly, “You.”

“I understood,” she said slowly, the two words laden with the heavy emotion of everything else she could have added but left unsaid.

“Honestly? I think that made it worse. You took my anger and didn’t fight back, and I just kept doing it. Instead of being happy you were there, I made it miserable for you.” She sounded deeply sad and Sylvanas realised this had been a profound regret for the younger woman.

She had no reply. Their time together could have been better, and not just the last ten years of it. Sylvanas had more than her own share of blame for that.

“I’m sorry, Sylvanas.” Alyna was shaking and Sylvanas felt herself drawn to the woman, wrapping her arms around her tightly. She heard her whisper into her neck, “I’m not surprised you left when you did. In time I realised it was a miracle you’d stayed as long as you had.”

Sylvanas shushed the woman in her arms, not wanting the conversation to stray into the territory of her ultimate betrayal. She closed her eyes and spoke softly, realising she had another admission. “I’m sorry too. I knew what was going on with you and didn’t help you face it. Perhaps, if I had tried …” she trailed off. If she had tried, the result would have been the same. She would have been forced to leave Alyna. But, perhaps, she would have been able to be happier in her new world if Sylvanas had taken more responsibility for helping her partner settle down.

Sylvanas was aware of rangers moving away from them and cursed their public setting. She pulled away slightly from Alyna, though they remained close. She brushed the other woman’s hair back from her wet face and smiled tenderly.

Alyna’s eyes flickered up to hers almost coyly. “My grandfather would tell me things about you, even after we split up. He kept saying he had heard rumours about how you were doing.” She bit her lip before asking, “Were they really rumours?

“I … would … meet with him, occasionally. To ask how you were.”

“He never told me.” She sounded hurt.

Sylvanas held Alyna’s hand, though she wasn’t sure why. It had felt like a natural thing to do as she explained, “I asked him not to. Please, don’t think any less of him for it. I’d caused enough pain for you and thought you knowing would make things worse.”

Alyna appeared to consider the request before nodding her understanding.

A shadow fell over them and they both looked up to see Zendarin approaching.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but Alyna had asked earlier for clarification about a spell?” He looked hopefully at Alyna.

“Right, yes. Thank you.” She nodded to Zendarin before looking back at Sylvanas, “I’m sorry, I forgot I had asked him to help me figure out something I’ve been working on.”

“The ideas you mentioned earlier?” She nodded, excitement in her eyes. “Well then, don’t let me keep you. I’m sure I’ll hear about it tomorrow.”

Alyna gazed at Sylvanas a few moments before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on her cheek. Her words were quiet, for Sylvanas only, “Thank you for telling me.”

Sylvanas nodded, temporarily overwhelmed by the scent of Alyna’s hair and the burning sensation on her cheek where she had been kissed. She watched them leave the clearing in the direction of Tranquillien, and felt jealous of the time Zendarin was about to spend with Alyna. Her arms felt empty. She took a deep breath, feeling her lungs fill with pleasant relief, and let out a deep sigh. _What am I doing?_ she wondered. Could she really hope to just be friends with this woman?

She shook her head to clear it and stood up, her appetite lost. She followed them towards Tranquillien in search of Alleria who she knew was training volunteers through the evening. She found her in the centre of the village. Archery targets had been set up and she was drilling the volunteers with help from a pair of her lieutenants. She was demonstrating a technique using her own bow, an exquisite and powerful composite bow carved from a bough of the mother tree of Eversong Woods shortly after the elven kingdom of Quel'Thalas was founded. Known as Thas’dorah, the bow had been handed down through their family via the eldest of each generation. Sylvanas had been extremely jealous of her sister for a long time, but had moved past that many decades ago, around the time she had been made ranger general. She had realised her talent lay not in any weapon, even Thas’dorah, but herself.

On the other side of the large open space at the centre of Tranquillien were Alyna and Zendarin, their backs partially towards Sylvanas. Alyna had an arrow in her hand and was talking intensely with Zendarin, their body’s touching as he guided her through some movements.

Sylvanas felt a presence near her own, and realised Alleria had silently moved to stand next to her sister. She had followed Sylvanas’ gaze towards the mage pair and consequently they both watched the scene unfold as dozens of rangers suddenly appeared from the northern access road. One of them caught sight of Alyna and called out her name in happy surprise. Alyna turned just in time to catch the almost flying female ranger in a fierce embrace. Alyna’s name spread like wildfire through the following rangers and many tried to crowd around the startled, but happy mage. She was laughing, and Sylvanas could hear the musical sound from across the space above the rest of the din present.

Alleria’s amused voice broke their own silence, “Well, it looks like her former company has arrived. This’ll be interesting.”

Sylvanas’ guilt was unbearable as she watched dozens of rangers pour forth to hug and greet their former captain. They were all overjoyed to see her; she had been a popular leader. She felt sick and had to look away.

She knew the look Alleria was giving her was one of concern, and she eventually gave in to her curiosity. “I never understood what happened between you two, sister.”

“I thought I understood back then. Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Regrets? That’s unlike you.”

Sylvanas bit her lip hard, too close to almost confessing everything. Alleria waited patiently, knowing her sister had something on her chest that would be revealed if she didn’t press her too hard.

Sylvanas found she wanted to be open about how she felt, for once in her life. “She didn’t get all of me, Alleria. When we were together.” She sighed deeply. “Did you know that in the ninety-seven years we were together, we never argued? Not even when she was in Quel’Danas. Yet before that, when she was just another ranger and a friend, we fought constantly about everything. It was one of the things I admired about her, her ideas and opinions, and not being afraid to tell me about them even if she knew I didn’t necessarily want to hear it.”

Alleria was clearly confused and Sylvanas closed her eyes as she let the memories wash over her. Her voice was bitter and full of self-reproach. “After we got together, I kept her at arm’s length, and only ever spent the night with her when we were intimate. The rest of the time, I insisted she spend it alone even if I was travelling with her unit. It was … safe … that way. For me. We didn’t argue because we weren’t close enough to find things to argue about.”

Alleria had known her sister approached relationships differently, but had not been aware of the finer details. She heard Alleria shifting her feet around to look at Sylvanas. “You’d had lovers before Alyna, but we all knew they were nothing serious. When you two got together we thought it was different. Why would you do that, Sylvanas? Not just to her, but to yourself?”

“You know me, sister,” she spat scornfully, opening her eyes as she whirled on Alleria, “I always have to be in control, never just giving in to the moment and just … being.” She sighed sadly. “You’ve always been so _good_ at that. You’ve always given everything you are to those you love.” Alleria’s eyes softened with understanding. “I tried to control everything. And yet, she still loved me. She took the part of me I could give her, and accepted the other part was out of her reach. Out of _everyone’s_ reach.” She shook her head in disbelief at her own actions. “She got more of me than anyone, but not enough to even get close enough to me for an argument or two.”

Alleria’s eyes glanced back towards Alyna for a brief moment before refocusing on her distraught sister. “And now?”

Sylvanas’ shoulders sagged. “And now … I know what parts of me I held back, and they have no power over me anymore. I’m finally ready to be with her completely.”

The use of the word ‘her’ instead of any one in general was not missed by the older sibling. “You sound like you’re falling in love with her again.”

Her reply was barely above a whisper, but she felt her words reverberate profoundly through her soul, having not voiced them aloud to another before now. “I never stopped loving her.”

Alleria blinked, her confusion evident in her furrowed eyebrows, but she knew better than to try and pry information from her younger sister when she didn’t want to volunteer it.

Instead, she said, “I’ll tell you this beloved sister; I will follow you into any battle and trust you to put my life to its best use, even if it means my end. But, if I _ever_ come to you for relationship advice, consider yourself my last desperate hope.”

Sylvanas raised an eyebrow, appreciating the attempt at levity. “I’ll accept the first part of that with gratitude.”

Alleria raised a slightly lighter eyebrow, “And the second?”

She looked back at the two mages standing close together amongst the mob of happy rangers, Zendarin having somehow managed to stay close to Alyna. “You’re right,” she admitted, “I’m the last person to know anything about being happy with another.”

She walked away, feeling her sister’s worried gaze at her back.


	8. Chapter 8

The rain came down in sheets as they trudged through the forest west of Tranquillien. The thick canopy was saturated and the water was pouring down, but the rangers were not getting wet. The water appeared to fall around them, not on them, such was the potency of the natural magic they practised. The mud was a different matter, and most were caked in it up to their knees. Alyna was fortunate in that she was marching near the front of the army where the ground had been barely churned by booted feet. She felt for the poor rangers near the back, and was very grateful she was not wearing a robe. She smiled as she imagined the complaints from the magisters who were thankfully not near her.

They were not as numerous as they would have liked. With the trolls in Zul’Aman massing, Sylvanas had been forced to leave a company behind with their nearly one hundred volunteers to harass the trolls until they could get back for a full assault. It was a gamble, but despite the threat the trolls presented, the Horde was the greater one, and had to be dealt with quickly. The humans had finally arrived, though they had not made direct contact yet. They were somewhere to the south closing in on the Horde, as Sylvanas swung the elves around to come at them from the north. The plan was to trap the orcs between the two forces. It was simple, but all leaders knew that most plans died the moment they took to the battlefield, so the simpler the better.

A shorter and broader woman swore beside Alyna, and she smiled at her. Liadrin was a priestess of the Light, the prime religion of the humans that had gradually become practised by the elves over the last few millennia. Alyna was a believer, and Liadrin had become a firm friend since they had met in Quel’Danas thirty years ago. Alyna’s faith had not been particularly strong then, but she had found some measure of solace in the Light after her forced exile from the forests. Liadrin had been a voice of reason and quiet, sensible wisdom. She had arrived in Tranquillien with the rangers from her old company, and she had been overjoyed to see her friend; a friend who was wearing a robe that had started the day relatively white.

“I did warn you,” Alyna chided.

Liadrin puffed slightly as she trudged through the mud, unused to this level of exercise. Alyna was feeling the burn in her muscles as well, but her recent activities had helped prepare her for what they were going through. “You did. Several times, if I recall.”

“You could have worn leggings.”

“And distract all these strong warriors with temptation? That would be cruel of me.” A few of the nearby ‘warriors’ chuckled.

“You’re a priestess, not a celibate.”

“Say that a little louder, I don’t think they heard you back in Tranquillien.” More chuckles could be heard as they walked around trees and bushes. Liadrin brushed her bright orange hair back from her face and used a piece of cloth on her wrist to tie it back. With a quick flick of her hand, her body glowed briefly with her Light-given power, and she was refreshed, the mud sticking to her robe flaking away to leave it pristine again.

Alyna shook her head in disbelief. “You’ll have to teach me that trick.” Several of the rangers around them mumbled their envious agreement.

“A ranger, a mage, and now you wish to wield the Light? Hm! Leave something for the rest of us.”

Alyna chuckled. Her friend’s tone was light and teasing, and she appreciated the levity. While she had become a devout believer in the Light, it took great dedication to be blessed by the ability to wield it. It then took incredible focus to channel it into the healing spells that priests and priestesses used to support their people, both at home and on the battlefield. She had nothing but admiration for her friend. Whether they believed in the Light or not, all elves had a high regard for the priesthood because of the difficulty of their discipline. Unlike the magi, they also kept their achievements to themselves and did not use them to manipulate their social standing.

Liadrin had been partnered with Alyna for the battle ahead, which meant they were to look out for each other. It was a simple system, but effective, and they had both been attached to Sylvanas’ personal unit. Alyna wasn’t sure what to make of that particular detail. As a ranger cadet she had competed fiercely to be chosen by Sylvanas, then a captain, to join her company, and unit. She had succeeded, becoming the older woman’s protégé in the process. Part of her duty had been to be Sylvanas’ buddy in combat; a task she had relished. As both she and Sylvanas were promoted, she had retained that duty whenever the general was travelling with Alyna’s unit.

This would be the first time Alyna had marched into combat with Sylvanas without being immediately at her general’s side. _Had she found a new protégé?_ She hadn’t mentioned one, nor had she heard any gossip of one either.

Did it matter? She just didn’t trust anyone to protect Sylvanas like she would.

A few hours later they were there. Smoke rose around them, the smell of blood and ash on the air. The Horde had set fire to the trees for reasons of their own, and while they had done considerable damage the rain had put the remaining fires out. They had been arranged in rows just inside the treeline, and though they were just metres from the action, the orcs had not noticed them.

All who could were trying to get a look at the orcs. On average, humans were slightly shorter and much stockier than elves. The orcs were a similar height to humans, but were massive physically, most of their mass being hard muscle. Alyna could make out females amongst their number. While not as big as their males, they were still muscle-bound. Tusks could be seen from the lower jaws of both genders. They were brutally efficient fighters, relying on strength and varying amounts of skill to swing their large, heavy weapons. They showed no fear as they slammed into the shield-walls the humans were struggling to maintain. It would appear they had arrived just in time.

A roar could be heard from the fray and heads turned towards it. A massive figure easily twice the size of an orc appeared from beyond the farther treeline and was lumbering towards the human frontline. The hammer it held in one hand was large enough to make Alyna wonder if she could even pick it up. While the orcs were green-skinned, this creature was more pale grey, and it had two heads. When it swung its hammer it took out numerous soldiers with each blow. Just when she thought she had seen it all, the creature raised a hand and set fire to a number of Alliance soldiers.

“It’s a mage!” Alyna heard herself whisper to no one in particular.

“Great,” replied Liadrin sarcastically, “as if it isn’t already the biggest meanest thing out there.”

Sylvanas had also thought this was too much of a threat to remain hidden any longer. She issued orders, and the front rank of rangers, led by Lor’themar, took a couple of steps and hurled their spears at the creature, felling it at the first attempt. They drew their swords, braced themselves behind their shields, and marched into battle with the rest of the rangers behind them, a loud cheer going up from the humans.

Alyna stuck close to Sylvanas and her unit. They were all archers and had begun to rain arrows down into the Horde. Alyna did likewise with her bow until she felt Sylvanas at her side.

“How about we try one of your ideas?” Despite the phrasing, Alyna knew it was not a request.

She nodded and moved behind the row of archers that comprised of Sylvanas’ unit. They all loaded their bows and drew them back. As they took aim, Alyna focused on the magic around her, pulling it into her. In rapid succession, each ranger released their arrow one by one, and Alyna focused her attention on each as it flew through the air, setting them on fire. She could hear the screams of the orcs as they landed and ignited their targets, but tried to ignore them. By the time the last was released, the first ranger was ready again. Taking a deep breath, she knew she could continue this for a short while without pause and gave Sylvanas a small nod. She felt the emptiness beside her as the general moved to join the line of archers, and the cycle repeated until Alyna felt she needed to rest. She then picked her bow back up and took her place in line with the rest of the unit.

Not long after, elven cries of alarm could be heard and a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye caught Alyna’s attention. She turned just in time to see one of the huge two-headed creatures charging towards them, throwing elves out of its path with brutal ease. It stopped just as suddenly and began casting a spell. Alyna grabbed the arm of the oblivious ranger next to her and tried to run off to the side, but realised it was too late. She braced for the impact.

A bright shield snapped up around the unit barely before a massive bolt of arcane energy slammed into it. The force disintegrated the shield and sent a shock wave crashing over the occupants, sending them flying. Alyna felt the wind get knocked out of her as she landed on her side, quickly followed by blinding pain as several ribs snapped. The ground shook as the beast moved amongst them, screams of pain splitting the air as it found vulnerable targets.

_Sylvanas!_

Painfully, Alyna managed to sit up and look around. Sylvanas was struggling to sit up as the creature approached her, still stunned from her impact with the ground. She tried to focus on her magic to get the creature’s attention but the pain in her chest was preventing her from focusing. She grit her teeth and felt adrenaline flood her system as she realised Sylvanas could not get out of the way in time. Shouting her defiance, she pulled herself to her feet and charged at the back of the creature, drawing her runeblade as she ran. She leapt, and stabbed the blade with all her fury deep into its back, though not as high as she would have liked. The creature howled and spun around, catching Alyna with a fierce backhand to send her skidding backwards across the rough ground.

The world spun around her. She was aware of the creature bearing down on her but could not regain enough of her senses to move out of the way. It roared angrily, before stopping, and falling to its knees. She didn’t know which pair of eyes looked more stunned as it then fell face down, and stopped moving, two dozen arrows protruding from its back along with her runeblade.

Liadrin appeared by her side, a pale-yellow glow emanating from her hands as she chanted her spells. Alyna felt the warmth of the Light infusing her body as her ribs healed along with her other injuries. The haze surrounding her thoughts lifted, and she nodded her gratitude to her friend, not just for the healing but for the shield she had erected moments before the spell had impacted. Without it, they would all be dead. Liadrin gave her a brief smile before turning to focus on another ranger with a savagely broken leg.

A hand appeared in front of her face and Alyna looked up to see Sylvanas looking back at her. She took it, and was pulled to her feet.

“That was a stupid thing you did,” scolded Sylvanas, though her voice held no anger. She gave Alyna a small nod and smile, “Thank you.”

Alyna returned the smile, “Any time.”

Sylvanas held out the bloodied runeblade she had retrieved while Alyna was being healed, making sure to use her cloak to hold it with so it did not hurt her by rejecting her.

Alyna took the grip and gasped as she felt a bolt of energy flash through her hand, up her arm and through her body. While not painful, it was briefly overwhelming and she felt hands grab her shoulders to steady her.

“Alyna?” asked a concerned Sylvanas.

“I’m okay,” she managed, not sounding convinced. She looked down to her hand and felt her mouth open in shock – the runes on Felo’alann were blazing brightly.

Sylvanas had let go of her shoulders to stare at the blade as well before finally asking, “I hope you know what that means?”

“I think it means it’s bonded to me,” she said with surprise.

“Oh.” Sylvanas appeared to accept the development in her stride, which was more than could be said for the maelstrom that was going through Alyna’s mind. More shouts of alarm could be heard and they both looked around, Sylvanas muttering, “What now?”

Many faces, orc, human and elf alike, were looking up at the sky. A dozen dark shapes were falling towards them, growing larger as they neared.

Alyna squinted, “Are those …?”

“…gryphons!” finished Sylvanas, relief evident in her voice. The half-lion, half-eagle creatures were large, vicious, and being ridden by Wildhammer Dwarves. The dwarves inhabited the Hinterlands, where the other half of the Alliance army were currently clearing the rest of the Horde. For the dwarves to be here meant things were going well, and they had come to assist. They dive bombed the Horde, throwing large storm hammers into the fray which then magically returned to their hands each time. It caused chaos amongst the orcs.

 

Sylvanas was issuing orders to take advantage of the new development. Unsure what to do about her runeblade, Alyna sheathed it for now, immediately feeling weaker once it was out of her hand as the additional energy was no longer available to her. She still felt renewed though, so began to weave her magic around the archery of the other rangers again.

Another of the creatures that the humans called ogres lumbered into view. It swung a large club at a group of elves. Most managed to scramble out of the way, but one unlucky male was hit in his lower back, the club picking him up and tossing him several metres. Liadrin was already casting a spell before he hit the ground. He didn’t move, and Alyna heard a soft gasp from the kind-hearted woman beside her. She knew her friend had felt him die. Liadrin’s shoulders sagged slightly as she closed her eyes and took a breath. She then opened them and refocused her attention on someone else requiring her skills, a tear streaking down the dirt on her cheek.

Alyna’s awe at the priestess’ ability to push past what must have been deep emotional pain was quickly replaced by a deep, untamed rage at the deaths of her people. She drew Felo’alann, half-thinking it would not be bonded to her anymore. She smiled slowly as she saw the runes flare to life, and this time she was prepared for the surge that flowed through her. She revelled in it as she turned to face the ogre. A careless orc had got too close to its ally and had his face crushed by the ogre’s backswing as Alyna drew power into her body. She could sense far more of it than before and realised the runeblade heightened her own abilities as well as giving her raw power.

Elves around her paused to look, some stepping away as she prepared a spell one of the magisters had taught her. Felo’alann responded, glowing brightly as she drew on its innate element, fire. What had felt like minutes had been mere seconds until Alyna released a large ball of fire that hurtled towards the ogre. It passed over orcish heads, setting hair alight and burning scalps before slamming into the ogre’s chest. It exploded viciously, setting the still-alive ogre on fire. It screamed in agony and lashed out, killing more orcs before it collapsed, dead.

Alyna blinked. The battle immediately around her had almost come to a standstill as everyone looked at her, more than a few with their jaws hanging open. She looked at a line of orcs that had turned to face her, shock on their faces at how easily their powerful ally had been slain. Doubt crept into her mind. Could she do it again? The anger had subsided and so had some of her power along with it. The orcs raised their weapons and she realised she had no choice but to try again. She felt the spell grow in her free hand, a spark of fire churning over itself and growing into a small ball of flame.

The orcs turned and fled, barging their way back through the lines of their people. She threw the fireball after them, igniting more orcs and sending them fleeing in panic. The stench of charred flesh sickened her to her stomach, but she realised she was going to have to become accustomed to it if she wanted to keep using her runeblade.

Rangers grouped around her as she cast balls of fire into the orcs, and their section began to gain ground as the orcs pulled away from them. She knew without looking that Sylvanas was just behind her shoulder, controlling their slow advance. The humans pushed back from the opposite side, and the dwarves continued to dive bomb green heads. Ogres were taken down as quickly as they appeared, and the Horde was slowly being crushed between the two armies.

After a while, a scout ran to Sylvanas and told her the humans were becoming agitated. Alyna risked a glance over to them. They were pointing up at the sky again, and some were even backing away as if to flee the battlefield.

She looked up just in time to watch a gryphon and its dwarven rider be swallowed whole by a huge red dragon.

She stared, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. She had never seen a dragon before, but they were meant to be noble creatures who left the mortal races to their own devices. What could possess them to join a mortal war on the side of the Horde? Alyna had no idea. The red dragon was still quite a way up and had paused in its descent to swallow its attacker. Other dark shapes were also growing larger, and it became clear they were also red dragons of varying sizes.

The orcs roared as one, the sound snapping her back into reality. The back lines of the human ranks were fleeing, and the elves were turning to their leaders for guidance, including Alyna. To anyone else, Sylvanas was gazing at the dragons impassively, but Alyna knew her former lover better than anyone. She could see Sylvanas was just as terrified as the rest of them as to what this would mean for them. Her fear did not stop her from loading her bow and firing it at the approaching monster.

The arrow bounced off its chest harmlessly.

Others followed their general’s example, and Alyna focused on creating a new fireball. When she thought it large enough, she looked at the dragon and threw her hand towards it to release it.

Nothing happened. The fireball remained in her hand.

She tried again but it would not leave her. In confusion she tried to throw it at the orcs and it obediently blazed a path of destruction through half a dozen hapless warriors. She looked at her hand, uncertain of what to make of what just happened.

“Get away from the trees!” came a panicked cry.

Alyna turned. The dragons were flying strafing runs over the forest, torrents of fire spouting from their open mouths. Everything was burning. Elves who had been held back as reserves came flying from the trees. Some were not so lucky and they could hear their shrieks as the fires engulfed them. She felt a hand grab her upper arm and she allowed herself to be pulled away by Sylvanas. They were running for the hills to try and disappear into them and out of the reach of the dragons.

A dark shadow fell over them as they ran and Alyna knew what was following them. The instant the dragon opened its mouth she could feel the hot fire behind her, chasing them as they ran, getting closer. She gripped her runeblade fiercely and began to prepare a spell. She refused to die under these circumstances and she wasn’t about to let Sylvanas and her people be incinerated either. Just the thought of it fuelled her anger. She pulled in as much power as she could hold, but to finish her spell she had to focus.

To focus, she had to stop running.

Keeping her back to the rapidly approaching fire, she stopped. Sylvanas glanced over her shoulder, sensing her absence, and then stopped with a look of horror on her face. She began to run back towards her. Alyna held out her runeblade towards the fleeing elves and cast her spell.

A moment later, fire engulfed where Alyna had stood.


	9. Chapter 9

Sylvanas slammed into Alyna with force and sent them both flying. They landed in a twisted mass of arms, legs, bows, quivers and cloaks, their momentum rolling them down the slight gradient tangled together.

They eventually came to a stop, small stones and dirt continuing to roll over them as they clung to each other for a few moments to let the debris pass. Alyna coughed into Sylvanas’ neck before pulling away slightly. She could feel fresh grazes throbbing and bruises forming as she looked into startled grey-blue eyes.

“You teleported us?” came the surprised question.

She nodded, “I did.” She then frowned slightly at the general. Sylvanas could not have known that Alyna was attempting to teleport them all out of the dragon’s path. Her act of turning back when she had seen that Alyna had stopped running had been an act of suicide as there had been no hope of surviving the fire. Still being held tightly by Sylvanas, she said softly, “You should have kept running.”

Something Alyna could not quite interpret passed through the other woman’s eyes before she finally replied, her voice deep with emotion, “I’m done running away from you.”

Alyna felt her eyes widen in surprise and, perhaps, a little hope. Had she really heard what Sylvanas had said? Was she understanding her correctly? Could her words even mean anything else? All this and more passed through her mind as she felt Sylvanas’ face close the small distance between them.

A yellow glow flared from Sylvanas’ shoulder, making Alyna squint and turn her face away.

“Don’t mind me,” Liadrin hummed cheerfully, “but we _do_ have to get a move on before those dragons figure out we’re not well done and crispy.”

They looked up at her as she gently soothed their injuries, and they began the process of untangling themselves and their gear from each other. As they stood, Alyna could see the other elves she had teleported gathering together a short distance away. She looked around with surprise. She had managed to teleport almost the entire company to the other side of the valley they had been fighting at the bottom of. She moved up the slight incline and retrieved Felo’alann from where she had dropped it when Sylvanas had grabbed her, the runes blazing their recognition. She knew she could not have done such a thing without the runeblade, and was immensely relieved it had bonded with her when it had. She still had no idea what had caused the bonding though, and resolved to ask Falcar about it when she next saw him.

Sylvanas moved up to join her, their eyes meeting. She could see Sylvanas wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. It was odd to see the general being so awkward, but Alyna found it endearing.

“Later,” Alyna said simply, understanding they had no time for this now but that they would need to talk about this sometime soon.

Sylvanas gave her a small but genuine smile before nodding and making her way towards their people, Alyna and Liadrin on her heels.

As a group, they moved as silently as they could away from the dragons. Behind them was a devastating sight as their home was set on fire as far as the eye could see. The sky was black with the smoke. Every single one of them wanted to turn around and try to save their forest, but there was no way around. They had to trust that the people they had left in Tranquillien could keep things stable until they could find a way around or the fires extinguished themselves. For now, their only course of action was to join up with the humans and chase the Horde. The orcs had used the distraction the dragons had caused to escape into the mountains back in the direction they had come from.

After half an hour of scrambling they came upon what remained of the human army. To everyone’s relief, the rest of the elven contingent had also managed to join up with them, having escaped the dragons in their own way. One of the elves was waving at them, and as they got closer she realised it was Alleria. She had spent the battle on the human side having re-joined her unit to help coordinate the attack. She was standing with Lor’themar and a pair of human males. One was young and strong, wearing metal plate armour and carrying a large hammer, and the other was a much older man with white hair and a long beard, dressed in the gold-trimmed violet robes of the Kirin Tor, the wizard organisation that led the independent city-state of Dalaran. Sylvanas split off from their group to walk over to them, gesturing for Alyna to follow.

As they approached the group, Alyna could hear Alleria providing an introduction. “And this is my sister, Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger General and commander of our forces, and Lady Alyna Salonar. Sylvanas, this is Sir Turalyon of the Silver Hand, second-in-command of the Alliance forces. And Khadgar of Dalaran, a wizard.”

Sylvanas inclined her head in greeting before looking at Lor’themar, “How is everyone?”

“Most of my warriors escaped the inferno,” he started brusquely. “We cannot breach the flames, however. And so we are trapped without, while our families are trapped within. Now at least we know how the fire spread through the forest so quickly and from so many directions.” His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword and they all understood how he felt. They all wanted to go home.

Sylvanas put a hand on her friend’s forearm in comfort, “We cannot linger on such thoughts, my friend. We are here, and we must do what we can. And that means destroying the forces threatening our families before we can go home.” Lor’themar nodded his understanding stiffly. He would obey, no matter how hard it was for him personally.

Their general turned to the patiently waiting humans. “Your commander, Anduin Lothar, sent word to us once before, asking for our participation in this Alliance,” Sylvanas stated, looking at Turalyon. “My leaders chose not to respond beyond a token show of support.” Her gaze flickered to Alleria, and something like a smile crossed her face. “Though some of my rangers took it upon themselves to lend aid to your cause.” Then she sobered again. “But my elders realised their error when the trolls and orcs invaded our lands. For if Quel’Thalas is not safe from incursion, what is? They ordered me to assemble our warriors and march to meet you, and to render such aid as we could.” She bowed. “We would be proud to join your Alliance, Sir Turalyon, and I hope that our deeds henceforth will compensate for the tardiness of our involvement.”

Alyna was impressed. She had no idea Sylvanas could be so politically eloquent, but she supposed that particular skill would have been honed on the odd occasion she attended the Council meetings.

Turalyon nodded, “I thank you, and your people,” he told Sylvanas formally. “We welcome you and all your kin into our Alliance. Together we will drive the Horde from this continent, from your lands and ours, that we may afterward live in peace and cooperation once again.”

He appeared to want to say something else but a loud squawk overhead interrupted them, along with a sudden flutter of large wings. Turalyon ducked, as did Khadgar, and Lor’themar reached for his sword, but the descending creature was far smaller than a dragon, and covered in feathers and fur rather than scales.

“Sorry, lad,” said a stocky dwarf with a fiery orange beard, long pony tail, and various intricate blue tattoos on his face and visible parts of his body. The landing gryphon caused the horses to shudder and stamp their feet in dismay. “We tried, but those dragons are simply too big and too powerful for the handful o’ us to face. Give us time and we’ll be finding a way to face them in the sky and beat them down, but right now they’ve got the upper hand.”

Turalyon nodded. “Thank you for your efforts,” he told the dwarf. “And for your aid earlier. It saved many lives.” He glanced around him. “It is my honour to introduce Kurdran Wildhammer, Chief Thane of the Wildhammer clan of dwarves.”

Sylvanas smiled at the dwarf who gave her an enthusiastic wave in response. “It’s alreet, lad. We know each o’er. Go way back, eh, Sylvanas? How’s yer head feeling after we last saw ye?”

“Still attached,” she replied drily, causing Kurdran to laugh his amusement at her.

Alyna smiled, despite herself.  Sylvanas had never been a heavy drinker, and so had no real tolerance to alcoholic beverages. While not best friends, the elves and dwarves would meet up every few decades to maintain cordial relations between the two peoples and exchange news. The last time they had been in dwarven lands Sylvanas had got very, very drunk. The dwarves were extremely fond of their beer and it would have been rude to turn them down while on a diplomatic mission. They had not taken any mages with them, and so had had to delay their return to Quel’Thalas until Sylvanas had been well enough to travel. She had forbidden anyone in the group from talking about it once they had finally left. What happened in Aerie Peak, would stay in Aerie Peak.

Until now. Several elves were giving Sylvanas amused looks. There had been rumours of something happening during the last diplomatic visit but nothing had been confirmed.

“We need to get our people out of here,” started Turalyon after allowing them their moment. “We will return and free Quel’Thalas from the Horde, but right now we need to regroup and figure out our next step. I suspect the Horde have some other goal in mind.”

“Do _you_ have something in mind?” asked Khadgar. Alyna was watching him closely. There was something about the old wizard that seemed off but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Turalyon looked at each of the faces around him. “They’ve attacked the dwarves in their home, and they’ve driven the elves from theirs. What was the single biggest threat remaining to them?”

“The Alliance.”

Everyone turned to Alyna. She hadn’t meant to speak, but the words had slipped out.

Khadgar was looking at her, seemingly just as interested in her as she was in him. He expanded on her suggestion, “And the heart of the Alliance is in Lordaeron, in Capital City.”

Murmurs could be heard around those gathered and Turalyon agreed. They would make the gruelling march to Capital City. With the forest ablaze they would have to follow the orcs over the mountains, which wouldn’t be a problem for them now with the elves showing them the way. They set off immediately, many days of hard climbing and marching ahead of them.

After clearing the mountains a few days later, they managed to recruit some fresh horses from local human landowners, which Alyna was grateful for. Sylvanas appeared none the worse for their chase of the Horde, but Alyna was not used to this level of activity and she was exhausted. A horse had been given to Sylvanas as the leader of her people, but she had pulled Alyna up to sit in front of her in the saddle. It was no Quel’dorei Steed, but it carried both of them without complaint. If any of the elves had an opinion about their general riding tandem with her ex, no one said anything within earshot of either of them.

Alyna had enjoyed the contact as well. There had rarely been a need for them to ride like this when they were together, but she had always enjoyed the proximity when they had. It had normally been during rides along the beach near Windrunner Spire, where Sylvanas would take them cantering through the surf. She smiled and leant back slightly into the warm body behind her. Sylvanas pressed back lightly in response, almost as if she was remembering those days herself at the same time.

They didn’t say much to each other beyond making sure the other was okay. Sylvanas did most of the talking to the officers around her, issuing orders and receiving updates. They both had plenty they wanted to say, but they were waiting for the right time to start a conversation they both knew they had to also finish. Any interruption would infuriate both women, so they waited patiently for their moment.

The Horde had kept going south after it was long thought they would turn west towards Capital City, and the Alliance had chased. The elves had used their superior scouting skills to monitor their movements and report back quickly. This had allowed Turalyon to adjust their direction and gradually close the gap until they were within a day of the main army. They were occasionally catching up to orc stragglers, having no choice but to kill them.

Eventually, the Horde took a path that led into the Alterac Mountains, a tactic that had confused the Alliance leadership. The Kingdom of Alterac was a reluctant member of the Alliance, and as such the bulk of their forces had remained in the mountains with their leader, Lord Aiden Perenolde. It was an indirect route to Capital City, but Turalyon had surmised that the orcs were concerned that Alterac could provide reinforcements and had decided to deal with the threat first. As they would be unable to get to Alterac in time to save the people there, he had made the tough decision to take advantage of this by turning the Alliance forces west to try and beat the Horde to Capital City instead of chasing them into the snowy mountains. They were not equipped for the cold weather, and he had voiced his hope that the small kingdom could slow the Horde down long enough in the narrow mountain valleys to let them reinforce Capital City.

Occasionally, and because Alyna knew she was bored, Sylvanas would join one of the scout teams for a few hours. When she did, Alyna missed her presence at her back as she rode along. Other elves had been given horses as they found more along their route, and Zendarin had kept her company a couple of times, as he was now. He had been distant with her since the battle, though she wasn’t sure why.

After trying to make some small talk with the normally chatty Windrunner, he had eventually dropped his horse back to seek out one of the other magisters. She was lost in her own thoughts on the matter when Khadgar rode up to her, pulling his mount around to match her pace.

“Greetings, my Lady,” he said with a smile.

She returned the smile, “Alyna, please. I’ve never been comfortable with titles.” While part of the same army, the humans and elves had remained relatively separate and she hadn’t had a chance to see much of the enigmatic wizard.

“Ah, I understand.” He made a show of looking around. “I thought I’d come and see what things were like back here.”

“Much the same as they appear from up front, I’d imagine,” she replied with amusement, knowing he had a different reason for being beside her without Sylvanas present.

“Okay, you have me. I came to talk to you.” His pale blue eyes twinkled, eyes that appeared a lot younger than he appeared. Everything about him belied his years as he moved like a much younger man. She wondered how powerful he must be to be as old as he was but not have the frailty that came with age.

She chuckled. “What is on your mind, wizard of Dalaran?”

“I was curious. When you were introduced last week, Alleria mentioned your family name as Salonar?” Alyna nodded. “Would you happen to be related to Belo’vir Salonar?”

She raised an eyebrow. “He’s my grandfather. Do you know him?”

“Not personally, no. I was a young teenager in Dalaran when he was last there, but I remember the Grand Magister well. He gave a speech to my apprentice class on magical ethics that was very interesting.”

Alyna frowned. “The last time he was there was only a few years ago, and if I recall he said he had given the exact same speech.” She looked at Khadgar closely. “He said it was the first time he had given it and had been nervous about how it would be received.”

Khadgar chuckled. “Looks can be deceiving. I know I appear as an old man to you, but I haven’t seen my twentieth summer yet.”

“What?” she exclaimed, her suddenly louder tone causing heads to turn.

The young-old wizard suddenly sagged, looking sad. “It’s a long story. The short version is, I was sent a couple of years ago to apprentice under one of our greatest wizards, Medivh. While I learnt a great deal from him, and saw many wonders, it was ultimately he who did this to me.”

Alyna was stunned. “Why would he do such a thing?”

Khadgar stared ahead for a while and she could see the muscles in his jaw working through his emotions. Finally, he said, “It was Medivh who opened the portal that brought the orcs to our world.” He continued with obvious effort, “I was forced to fight him to try and put an end to it, and he managed to suck the life out of me, quite literally, along with my magic, before I killed him.” He sighed deeply with the memory of the event. “My magic is returning, but it appears this is how I will remain for the rest of my days, however many I have left.”

She looked at him with new respect. She couldn’t imagine having to turn on her own mentor, let alone kill him. It would devastate her and she could see the human’s pain. She also realised he didn’t want it acknowledged, so she spared him her sympathy.

“I had wondered how the orcs had found their way to our world,” she said idly. She glanced at him. “Thank you for explaining it.”

“You’re welcome.”

They rode on in silence for a while before she asked, “Are mages common in human society?”

He thought on this for a moment. “Not really. There’s more in Dalaran than in most other places, but even there the majority of the populace can’t use magic. Why?”

“I’ve noticed that humans tend to stay away from me when I come near, but they don’t react that way around the rest of my kin.” The fear in their eyes had unsettled her somewhat.

“Ah, yes. If it’s any consolation, it’s not because you’re an elf. They react that way to me as well. Us humans tend to fear what we don’t understand, and magic is still too rare amongst us for most to have much general exposure to it like you have in your society.” He raised a shaggy white eyebrow. “Although, after what they saw you do to that ogre I can see why they’d be afraid to get on your bad side. Plus, you made a lot of elves disappear quite dramatically before a dragon.”

She blushed. “That was not me, not really.”

“Sure looked like it from where I was standing. And I had a _great_ view.”

She smiled at his attempt at humour. “Well, yes, it came from my hand, and I cast the teleport spell. But it was my runeblade that powered it. I can only just about sling two spells together without it.”

He turned his head, his curiosity piqued. “The glowing spellsword you had? I didn’t realise it was a runeblade. How marvellous for you!”

She shook her head at the predictable response, tired of everyone telling her how lucky she was to have Felo’alann. Only Sylvanas seemed to understand that while it had certainly recently proved useful, it was her curse and not her fortune to have it. She felt her heart lighten at the knowledge that Sylvanas still seemed to be attuned to her thoughts and feelings.

“You think not?”

“I’m sorry?” She had become lost in her thoughts.

“You’re not happy to have a runeblade, are you.” He had phrased it as a statement intentionally, and she shrugged.

“It’s a long story.” He gave her a look and she couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Okay, okay. My turn, right?” He grinned, making himself look a few decades younger. She bit her lip wondering where to start and how much to say. “Being a mage is still very new to me, and my runeblade has only just become bonded to me. I don’t know much about it, or anything more about magic than the apprentice I am. I came into my magic long after most, and it was not a small shock. I used to be a ranger, a captain under the general’s command. I was also the senior lieutenant of her company before that.”

“And now you’re a magister-in-training.” She nodded, not trusting her voice to betray her bitterness. He thought on her words for a while before saying, “We don’t know as much about your people as we could, but Alleria has been patient in answering our questions. Being a ranger is important to her.”

Alyna looked ahead, unable to meet his eyes. “Rangers devote themselves entirely to their craft. It becomes the very essence of their being.”

“Sounds like how being a mage has been for me.” She glanced at him but said nothing. He eventually added, “It must have been difficult for you. Transitioning from one calling to another.”

This time she couldn’t help keep some of her bitterness from her voice. “I wouldn’t say I have transitioned, exactly.”

“Is that why you wear armour and carry a bow?”

“Is there a point to this line of questioning?”

He blinked. “I meant no offence. I have known magic most of my life, and I cannot imagine something else coming along and tearing me from what I feel is my destiny.”

She sighed, “I’m sorry. It’s just not something I generally like to talk about. It’s all still very … raw. And complicated.”

He looked at her for a long moment and then seemed to move his eyes to where Sylvanas would have sat behind her if she had been there. He then inclined his head, “I understand, and apologise as well.”

She had a feeling that he actually did, and had no idea what to make of this young-old alien stranger knowing something so personal about her and her general.

“Would you mind if I see it? Your runeblade? Medivh was quite a collector of artefacts and I admit to sharing that particular curiosity with him.”

She saw no harm in it and she drew the blade from her scabbard. She had begun to enjoy the power surge she got when touching it, though she was not ready to admit that to anyone quite yet. He pulled his horse closer and held out his hand, having wrapped his cloak around it so he would not make direct contact with the runeblade. The runes dimmed the moment it was out of her hand.

He had a soft smile on his face as he examined Felo’alann, turning it over to see both sides in detail. “Beautiful construction, and such fabulous detail! What do the runes say, or can’t you read draconic?”

“Draconic?” Alyna’s shock was enough to make him look at her.

“Well, yes. This was made by the red dragonflight.” He let out a half-laugh. “Didn’t you know? I thought that was evident from the red dragon hilt and how the blade has been forged to look like fire.”

“I …” She was stunned. “I thought it was just a style.” She felt dumb the moment the words were out of her mouth. Why hadn’t Falcar told her it was made by the dragons themselves? She could hear his answer before the thought had finished forming and she wanted to scream in frustration. Because it was part of her journey.

“Tell me, when the dragons appeared, did you try to attack them, but found you couldn’t?” Her wide eyes were enough to tell him she had tried and failed. “Well then, red dragons made your runeblade.” He handed Felo’alann back to her and she stared at it blazing in her hand. “You’re its current master, or mistress if you prefer, but runeblades such as this can never be turned against their creator. It’s sort of a built-in failsafe in case they fall into ignoble hands, so to speak.”

She looked at the runes dancing along the blade and gasped. Since the blade had bonded to her she had seen how it responded to her, but she hadn’t paid any real attention to the runes themselves.

_She could now read them!_

He chuckled. “You really are new to this mage business aren’t you? By your gasp, I take it you’ve just realised you can read the runes now you’re bonded?”

She nodded slowly. “But how? How can I read these?”

He shrugged, “Runeblades bestow all sorts of boons on those they bond with. You’ll probably be finding out about what this one can do for you for a long time to come. Sometimes, they even tailor themselves uniquely to a person, so it may grant you an ability that it has given no one else before, or ever will again once you pass it on.” He leant towards her, clearly curious. “So, what do they say?”

“ _Rage against the dying of the light._ ”

“What does that mean?” He sounded genuinely perplexed.

Alyna quietly sheathed Felo’alann and let him believe she had no idea.

 “Well, leave it to the dragons to be as cryptic as ever.”

Zendarin chose that moment to move alongside the young-old mage, taking the opportunity to introduce himself. Alyna only half-listened to their conversation about ley lines as she thought on the runes her blade bore. She had raged as she had attacked the ogres. The first one had attacked Sylvanas, and it had made her angry. Something similar had happened with the second as she had been furious at the deaths of her people and had created the large fireball out of that rage. Once her fury had subsided, so too had her fireballs been smaller. When she had teleported her fellow elves she had done so feeling defiant at their imminent deaths.

Rage.

It was something she hadn’t felt since she had become a mage. Self-pity, defeat, worthlessness, shame, and many other things but she had never become truly angry at her situation. Even when Sylvanas had broken up with her she had just given in and let her go. She had felt no right to the emotion as that was how her society was and she was just one elf. Who was she to fight a system that had lasted millennia?

It would seem that just because she had not allowed herself to feel it, she had a lot of buried rage. And rage, more specifically righteous rage aimed at protecting others, was what Felo’alann respected and desired.

_Flameheart_.

She laughed, getting strange looks from everyone around her, except for Khadgar. He somehow seemed to know why she was laughing and he joined in, thoroughly confusing Zendarin.

Rage, was something she could do.


	10. Chapter 10

_Alyna stared at her. The fire was rapidly approaching her from behind but she showed no fear at her impending death. Her dark blue eyes were shining brightly with power and she held her hand out to Sylvanas. When had she stopped running? The fire would kill them both, but she found she didn’t care. She knew if she ran she had a slim chance of survival, but what was surviving if her soulmate perished? She moved back towards Alyna as the fire approached, but didn’t make it in time before it engulfed her. Her features twisted in agony for the brief moment she was still alive enough to feel what it was doing to her. She felt the soul-wrenching loss of her mate and fell to her knees as the fire reached her._

Sylvanas woke up with a start. She was lying on her side facing the softly burning campfire she had fallen asleep beside. Slowly, she sat up and looked around. Most of the rangers were asleep, though a couple were still chatting quietly nearby. They nodded respectfully at Sylvanas when they saw her sit up and went back to their conversation. She reached for her flask and took a few slow sips of water, trying to get the dream out of her system. She looked to her left where Alyna was sleeping peacefully wrapped in her own cloak, the hood pulled over her face in a small attempt at privacy. She had her back to the fire.

She wanted to edge closer and wrap herself around the other woman. It was where she felt she belonged. She shook her head at herself. How had she not spent every night possible with this woman when she’d had the chance? Her mind reeled at her own stupidity.

When the dragon had been chasing them and she had looked back to see why Alyna was not following, time itself had stopped. She had no idea why Alyna had stopped, but she had also not cared. She was completely unable to keep going without her. She realised in that moment every mistake she had ever made regarding their relationship and the only thing she regretted was the realisation she would not be able to make up for them all if they died. She threw herself back towards Alyna in a vain attempt to save them both, but if she failed at least they would die together. It had been reckless, selfish, and she had lived, and nearly died, completely in the moment. She had told her sister how she had always wanted to just live in the moment, and she had chosen that instant to embrace the concept.

Surviving had been a complete surprise.

In the blink of an eye, everything had changed. They were alive and in each other’s arms. She had got what she wanted; that second chance to make up for all of it. And she had been absolutely terrified as she told Alyna she was done running. She was still filled with fear, and knew that it was driving the nightmare that had woken her repeatedly every night since. They had yet to have the conversation they had promised each other and she was scared events would make sure they never would. They would not get their reconciliation. They would not put their demons to rest.

She stood up and walked away from the fire towards a group of barns, needing to walk around a bit before trying to sleep again. They were camped on a farm just north of the human settlement of Andorhal, a major town in the region. The local landlords had been welcoming and had only asked that they respected their livestock and crops, which they had agreed to willingly. In the morning they would take the army through the foothills into a vale that was just north of Capital City. The army could hide there and ambush the Horde once they arrived from the south out of Alterac.

Sylvanas approached a sizeable well on the property. She gently moved the empty bucket from where it sat on the wall and lowered it down on its rope using a winch. When the rope went slack she reversed the wheel and pulled the bucket back up. She secured the winch and went to grab the bucket, another hand joining hers to help bring it over the wall of the well.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” returned Liadrin.

Sylvanas refilled her flask as the other woman watched. She noticed Liadrin had no flask of her own, and she quickly realised the only other reason she could be there was Sylvanas herself.

“What’s on your mind, priestess?”

While Liadrin had leant casually against the well, there was nothing casual about the look she gave Sylvanas. “It’s what’s on _your_ mind that concerns me, General.”

“Excuse me?” Sylvanas looked around, not entirely sure what the woman was on about. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m refilling my flask. What else is there?”

“Alyna.”

A light switched on in Sylvanas’ mind and she gave the priestess a curious look. “Did she send you?” she asked slowly, wondering if she wanted to have their talk.

“No. And she won’t know we’re having this conversation either.”

“What in the Sunwell are you talking about?” She took a step towards the other woman before realisation hit her. “You interrupted us on purpose. After she teleported us and we were about to …”

“Yes, I stopped you from making a big mistake.”

Sylvanas laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “A mistake? You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She secured her flask and lifted the bucket down to the ground for others to access, and then walked past the priestess to go back to her camp. Back to Alyna.

Liadrin grabbed her wrist as she passed, and she whirled to face the priestess, her words as cold as ice, “Let go of me. _Now_.”

Liadrin dropped her hand but did not move away. “I know _exactly_ what I’m talking about. Who do you think she went to after you dropped her like a stone? You don’t think I know what you’ve done to her?” she hissed.

Sylvanas was slightly taken aback. _Did she know? How could she?_ Her breath caught in her chest and she felt fear trickle down her spine. She heard the defensiveness in her voice, “I suppose you’re going to tell me you helped pick up the pieces.”

“Pieces? What pieces, General? When you left her, you _crushed_ her. She was barely holding it together after moving to Quel’Danas anyway, but what you did was nearly the end of her. Do you have any idea of the damage you have done?”

She took a sharp intake of breath as images flooded her mind. She had not been on Quel’Danas much after their split, but she’d had friends who had kept watch for her. She knew. Her voice shook with her admission, “Yes. I know.”

That surprised Liadrin. Whatever she had expected Sylvanas to say, it had not been the truth. She looked at Sylvanas and softened her tone slightly to sound less confrontational. “Then you know that what you’re doing now is just going to make things worse when all this is over and you have to go your separate ways. You can’t toy with her like this.”

Sylvanas shook her head. “No. No, that’s not going to happen again.”

“Because it’ll be different this time?” The priestess laughed. “You actually believe that don’t you, that somehow things will be better? You need to snap out of it, _now_ , for both your sakes. You’ll still be running wild and free, she’ll still be in a gilded cage, and she _will_ hate you for it.”

“NO!” Sylvanas was breathing erratically, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her normally stoic composure. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a while before opening them to look at the woman she knew was just trying to protect someone they both cared for. She did not know Liadrin well, but she was fully aware of the place she occupied in Alyna’s life.

She repeated the word again, more softly but just as intensely. “No. It _will_ be different.”

Something in her certainty made Liadrin pause. "How, General? You can't change how our society sees mages, or your relationship, any less than I or Alyna can."

She exhaled slowly, “Perhaps not, no. Although I wouldn’t put it past Alyna to change the world if she saw fit to try.” She smiled softly at the thought. If Alyna could win over someone like Sylvanas, she had no doubt she could do anything she set her mind to.

Liadrin gave a small snort of amusement, “You really do have it bad again, don’t you?”

“A confession for you, priestess: I never stopped.” The much shorter woman opened her mouth to reply but found she was speechless. Sylvanas chuckled mirthlessly. “Don’t bother trying to figure that one out; you won’t.”

“Alright,” said Liadrin slowly. “But you’ve yet to convince me that this is going to end any differently. You’ll have to spend the majority of your lives apart doing very different work.”

Sylvanas raised an eyebrow, “Since when do I need to convince you of anything, priestess?”

“Since you decided to not just sweep Alyna off her feet again, but barrel into her full tilt down a hill and try to kiss her.”

“A little bit dramatic, don’t you think?” she asked wryly.

Liadrin shrugged. “It happened.”

Sylvanas thought this was getting ridiculous. “You saw what you wanted to see and have filled in the rest for yourself based on a biased point of view.”

“She has barely just started to get over the last time you broke her heart!”

“That is not going to happen again!”

“How in the Light’s name is it not?”

“Because I will retire to be with her if I have to!”

They stared at each other for a long time, both breathing heavily from their argument.

“You’d do that?” Liadrin asked softly, uncertain whether to believe that Sylvanas could stop being a ranger.

Sylvanas had not planned to say what she did out loud, but as soon as the words were out there she knew they were true. She nodded slowly, “Yes. I would.”

The priestess narrowed her eyebrows slightly as she examined Sylvanas’ face closely. She allowed the scrutiny, knowing if she didn’t she would not be believed. She realised she desperately wanted Liadrin to believe her, and wondered when her approval had become necessary.

_Because she is important to Alyna, and Alyna is important to you._

The thought made sense.

“You don’t believe in the Light, do you, General?” The question was soft and held no tone of accusation or condemnation.

Sylvanas blinked, not expecting the change of subject or the question. “I … not really. I’ve not actually thought about it much, to be honest.”

Liadrin nodded knowingly. “Most of us are in Silvermoon and the larger villages. It’s hard to spread the Light to the sparser regions you spend most of your time in.”

Sylvanas agreed. She had nothing against the Light, and had always respected Alyna’s faith. She had just felt no need to seek it out herself.

“Would you accept a blessing?”

The general tilted her head in confusion, not knowing why this woman wanted to give her a benediction. “Yes.”

Liadrin bowed her head and held her hand towards Sylvanas, chanting a couple of lines under her breath. A warm yellow light moved gently from her hand into the general’s chest and spread throughout her body. Sylvanas closed her eyes, feeling a deep sense of calm and peace spread through her being. _Perhaps there was something to this Light thing after all_ , she mused.

“The nightmare won’t bother you anymore.” Sylvanas opened her eyes to look at the smiling woman in surprise. Liadrin moved away from the well to make her way back to her own camp. Before she left earshot, she turned and said, “As peaceful as you feel right now, the Light’s wrath is incomparable. Light help you if you hurt her again, Sylvanas Windrunner, because you will need its mercy to save you from me if you do.”

Sylvanas was dumbfounded as she watched the priestess walk away into the dark. She shook her head and found her way back to her camp. The peace Liadrin had blessed her with remained and she smiled contently when she saw Alyna still asleep. She lay down beside her, facing her sleeping form, and gently took her hand in her own. Though still asleep, Alyna squeezed her fingers. They remained that way until morning.

Turalyon had decided to push ahead of the main army so he could get a good look at the land by daylight. The human cavalry made good time over the foothills, the elves easily keeping up despite mostly being on foot. As they reached the highest peaks they were able to look down into the valley where Capital City stood on the northern shore of Lordamere Lake. What they saw was a shock. Somehow, the Horde had beaten them to it. The city was under siege, though the walls had not yet been breached. They knew they could hold out for several days, yet they needed to coordinate their attack with the inhabitants of the city. Khadgar had been given a gryphon by the dwarves and had set off with their strategy, while Turalyon took the rest of them into the vale as planned. It would take several hours before the rest of the army caught up, and if they were to have any chance of success they would all need to rest and gather themselves for what was going to be a long battle. There would be no retreating from this one, and they all knew it.

High above the vale, a Cathedral was visible through the trees to the north, dominating the skyline. Although architecturally very different to what she was used to, Sylvanas thought it impressive. Even from a distance she could see several engineering marvels in its design, a small reminder that while short-lived, humans were capable of great feats in their time.

Sylvanas was sitting next to Alyna, their dinner finished. They had no fires tonight so as not to give away their presence to the Horde with the smoke, and a light chill was setting in. Sylvanas pulled her cloak closer to keep warm.

“There was a lot of them,” mumbled Alyna dejectedly.

“I know,” she agreed. “We nearly had them before though, and this time we can press them against the city walls.”

“And if the dragons appear again?”

She looked at Alyna, seeing the worry in her eyes. She had told her about her runeblade’s origins as soon as she had realised, and her inability to be affective against them had upset her. “The dwarves have brought reinforcements, and they believe they can fight back if they show up.”

That didn’t appear to reassure Alyna, but there was nothing else she could say. They had prepared as best they could. It was not a fight they could run from, even if there was a high chance they would lose. They had to try.

Around them, elves had begun to pair off and head into the trees in higher numbers than usual. It brought home the reality that most of them expected to die tomorrow. She felt proud of her people. Despite the prospect of dying in a foreign land defending a human city they would most likely never set foot in, they were acting with dignity and grace. She had led them here, and they would follow her even if it meant their deaths. She felt humbled by their devotion, even as she felt the weight of their lives on her shoulders.

“We’re doing the right thing,” Alyna said gently. She looked back at Alyna who shrugged, “You looked worried.”

“I am,” she admitted, looking back at those heading into the trees. “For many, this will be their last night. I am responsible for that.”

“They all chose this life, Sylvanas, long before you led them here. That responsibility is their own. They will all die one day, and have chosen to do it in service to our people. Yours is just to make sure their deaths are not wasted.”

She snorted. “Like what? Arrows in a quiver?”

“Partially, yes. Arrows are a finite resource, and so are people.”

She mumbled, “People aren’t so easily replaced.”

They both knew she meant more by that statement than what they had been discussing but neither of them expanded on it. Instead, Sylvanas elbowed Alyna softly and nodded in Zendarin’s direction.

“My cousin has been trying to get your attention.” He’d been trying for a while.

“I know,” she said barely above a whisper. “I’m ignoring him.”

Sylvanas chuckled, “Has he finally got on your last nerve?”

Alyna blushed deeply, making Sylvanas curious. “He … ahh … well. He doesn’t want to be alone tonight.”

“What does th—” started Sylvanas before she realised exactly what she had meant. “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Right. So, you’re not interested?” She tried to sound casual but wasn’t convinced she had pulled it off. The look of horror on Alyna’s face was priceless though, and Sylvanas laughed. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then!”

Alyna shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe he’s even trying. He knows better. He knows nothing can happen because I …” She stopped, her mouth still open but the words not forming. The look she gave Sylvanas was one of mild panic before she came to a decision within herself, “because I’m not over you.” She bit her lip, but did not look away. “I don’t think I ever can be.”

Sylvanas held her eyes with her own. There was so much she wanted to say but found she couldn’t speak, there was too much going through her at once. Instead, her body did her talking for her and she reached out, taking Alyna’s hand in her own and squeezing tightly. She hoped it conveyed that she felt the same way.

Alyna dropped her head and peered up at her with a coy smile, the heated look sending shivers down her spine. Sylvanas felt her body respond even as her mind froze. And then Alyna stood up, and walked into the trees behind them, not looking back.

Sylvanas was stunned, staring at the dark spot Alyna had disappeared into. She looked back into the circle, happening to see Alleria looking at her with a teasing grin. Her older sister raised an eyebrow and nodded into the trees, and she could hear the unspoken question.

_What_ was _she waiting for?_

Sylvanas found her legs and stood. She ran into the trees, ignoring the amused chuckles behind her.

She found Alyna leaning against a huge tree, her weapons carefully arranged on the ground. Without taking her eyes off the younger woman, Sylvanas removed her own weaponry and quiver, automatically arranging them so she could pick them up in a hurry should she need to.

She stepped up to Alyna, and could feel the heat of her body radiating off her. Alyna smiled slowly, and Sylvanas could see relief in her eyes – she had not been sure her general would follow. She vowed to make sure she would never give Alyna cause to doubt whether she would follow her ever again.

There was so much she wanted to say, and she made to start but Alyna put a finger against her lips. The contact sent a bolt through her body. She understood the gesture – words would come later. What they needed now went beyond what words could ever convey. She stepped into Alyna’s body, her arms snaking around her waist as Alyna closed the rest of the distance between them.

Their lips met hungrily. There was no shyness or hesitation as the two women lost themselves in each other. Cloaks fluttered to the floor and armour was rapidly peeled from each other’s bodies, reverent but heated kisses trailing along newly exposed areas of flesh.

Alyna spun them round and pressed Sylvanas up against the tree, the bark scraping not unpleasantly across her back. She could feel Alyna’s hands running down her body and she arched her back as warm lips followed as the other woman knelt before her. She barely had time to brace herself on a low branch before she felt the same lips press against the sensitive flesh between her legs. She felt a familiar reservation at the back of her mind, wanting to fall back into old habits of always holding something back. She quashed it quickly and gave in completely to Alyna’s attentions, not caring how many heard her release.

She fell to her knees, shaking uncontrollably. Alyna had caught her and lay them down gently on one of their cloaks, patiently stoking her hair until she had recovered. Her own hunger spurred her recovery, and her lips began to suck and kiss their way across Alyna’s body. She savoured every gasp and revelled in the small moans as she found new areas to tease, slowly making her way down her lover’s body. She could smell her excitement as she neared the damp juncture between the younger woman’s legs, and it nearly drove Sylvanas over the edge again. Again, she felt a voice at the back of her mind wanting to over analyse the situation and control every detail, but she pushed it aside. She pressed her mouth against her lover and let Alyna’s own body guide what she did next. The taste of her lover was overwhelmingly delicious, and she found she couldn’t get enough of it even once Alyna had climaxed and was half-heartedly trying to push her away from her too sensitive bundle of nerves.

She laughed throatily, pulling her body up to lay beside the woman she knew beyond any doubt was her soulmate. Tradition would dictate that friends would rise and go back to the group at this point, but they both knew that was not going to happen. Sylvanas lay on her back with Alyna curled into her side, half-dozing and enjoying the feeling of her warm body and weight.

Alyna stirred and Sylvanas looked down at her, their eyes meeting.

“You stayed,” said Alyna in wonder.

“I did.”

Alyna hesitated before asking, “Will you walk away in the morning?”

Sylvanas shifted their bodies so they both lay on their sides facing each other. She pressed her body against Alyna’s and cupped her cheek tenderly, wanting her to have no doubt in what she said next. The words would have severe consequences for both of them, but Sylvanas was beyond caring about what others wanted for them or from them anymore. _Damn them all!_ They may not live to see another day, and if they did she was going to make sure they would always be together, no matter the cost. She was done denying what Alyna was to her. Her voice full of emotion she whispered, “Never again.”

They made love, gentler this time. Every touch and sigh simultaneously reaffirming their bond and renewing it. They both had wounds that would need time to heal, but they could both feel the process start as they climaxed in each other’s arms. Laying on one cloak, and wrapped in the other, they fell into a comfortable sleep.

Sylvanas woke to the sound of wood being chipped away. A small flake bounced off her forehead and she risked opening an eye to see what was going on. A firm nipple was hovering over her face, and she mischievously sucked it into her mouth, getting a cry of surprise from Alyna. When she didn’t let it go, the cry quickly became a soft moan.

“You really need to stop that or we’ll miss the war,” Alyna managed to say with some effort.

She chuckled and released the tortured nipple, twisting her body so she lay on her front, propped up on her elbows. “What are you doing?” Alyna had been chipping away at the bark of the tree with a dagger. She squinted at the markings and could make out an ‘A’, with two crossed marks, and a long squiggle that looked like the makings of an ‘S’.

She laughed deeply when she realised what it was. Alyna’s shy indignation made it worse.

“Oh, I can’t believe you’re carving our initials into a tree!” She half-choked on her next words as she tried to keep a straight face, “Were you going to add a heart?”

“Uhm, well …” She looked back at the tree and blushed. “Maybe.”

She took pity on her lover and pulled herself up so she could sit properly. She took Alyna’s hand and pulled her closer, kissing her soundly and leaving them both breathless for a few moments. “I think it’s adorable.” Her lips twitched with her continued amusement. “Got another dagger?”

Alyna’s smile made her day, and she helped finish the childish activity. It was a simple, silly thing, but she wouldn’t have swapped it for anything else. When the heart was complete, they reluctantly stood and helped dress each other, strapping on each other’s armour with a familiar ease. Sylvanas realised she wanted this to be how she woke up every day, laughing and smiling with Alyna.

When they finished putting all their weapons back into place, she took the other woman in her arms again and kissed her deeply. Alyna gave her a brilliant smile when they finally parted, still holding onto each other.

“I like this you,” Alyna purred.

“This me?”

“Mhmm.” Her lips kissed lazily along Sylvanas’ jawline.

“What me?”

Alyna paused in her kisses and caught the general’s eyes with her own. “You’re … different.” Sylvanas could see she was working through a few explanations in her mind and gave her time to settle on one. “You didn’t hold back.” She cupped Sylvanas’ cheek softly, “And you’re still not. It’s … really nice.”

Sylvanas was stunned. “You … knew? That I did that?”

Alyna nodded, “Of course I did. I could feel how you felt about me, but it was always like a part of you was elsewhere.”

Sylvanas closed her eyes, her grief at her own actions evident in her voice, “I’m sorry.” When she opened them she stroked Alyna’s face tenderly. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

The other woman looked at her closely before nodding, “I believe you.” She opened her mouth to say something else but stopped, and Sylvanas could see a hint of fear in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow, letting Alyna know she had seen it and was ready to hear what was on her mind. Eventually, she asked, “When you broke up with me … it wasn’t the distance, was it?”

Sylvanas felt her jaw tensing and she looked away. Now was not the time to get into this conversation, but she was going to have to explain it all to her at some point, she knew. She could not allow them to rebuild their life together on a lie.

She broke the embrace and took each of Alyna’s hands in hers and held them up between them, kissing each softly. “No. It wasn’t the distance.” She took a slow, shuddering breath. She saw doubt in Alyna’s eyes and let out the breath she had been holding. “There was no one else, before you think that. I didn’t leave you for another.” She swallowed, and Alyna seemed relieved. “I promise you, when this war is over, I will explain everything.”

Alyna asked the question on both of their minds. “And if one of us doesn’t make it?”

She let go of Alyna’s hands and cupped her face with both of her own hands. “Know that I have loved you with the entirety of my being, and I still do.”

Alyna fell into her arms and she held her tightly.

“I love you, Sylvanas.”

“I love you too.”

When they pulled apart for the final time, they walked back to the camp hand in hand. Sylvanas pointedly ignored the hidden grins from the other rangers but took joy in their approval. Her people were happy their general was happy, and she was _very_ happy indeed. The one sullen face belonged to Zendarin. A scout greeted them as soon as he saw them, and Sylvanas realised he must have been looking for her. She pulled Alyna into a very public searing kiss before she winked at her and left with the scout to see what the other military leaders wished to discuss.


	11. Chapter 11

A short series of trumpet blasts split the air, and Sylvanas sighed. She unhooked a small horn from her belt and blew into it, a shrill sound piercing the air with two short notes, then a single longer one.

“So much for that,” quipped Alyna, not happy that the humans had sounded for a retreat.

“We need to regroup.”

“If we get pushed back against the lake, it won’t matter.”

Sylvanas gave Alyna a surprised look as they began to slowly retreat. “Are you actually going to argue with me now, of all times?”

She grinned at her general. “Would you have it any other way?” Despite the eye-roll she received, she saw the small smile Sylvanas gave her.

“Come on, let’s see what Turalyon’s thinking about all this.”

Alyna followed Sylvanas as she threaded her way through their people towards where the humans were regrouping. The day had started with Turalyon leading a cavalry charge into the back of the Horde’s lines. It had been an effective attack, killing many orcs. At the same time, the city had fired their ballistae and launched their own attack, pinning the orcs between two deadly fronts as the elves rained arrows down on their heads.

It had not been enough. What the orcs had lacked in tactical positioning, they had made up for in sheer number. They could afford the massive losses they were taking, and had fought back with ferocity. They had been pushing the Alliance slowly back towards Brightwater Lake for hours and they had been unable to stop their advance. Scouts had also reported that the gates to Capital City were also starting to buckle under the Horde’s relentless assault, which was much sooner than had been expected. The bodies of fallen orcs against the walls were also allowing living ones to climb up them to attack the defenders.

As they approached Turalyon, the wizard Khadgar gave Alyna a broad grin, and she felt like blushing. Earlier, she had been surprised by Sylvanas’ demeanour after their night together. When they had previously been together Sylvanas had always been very reserved afterwards. While she had not denied their relationship publically, they had kept it very discrete. That had partly been because of the societal implications of it, but Alyna was also aware it was just how Sylvanas had preferred it. This time, Sylvanas had been anything but discrete about what had developed between them. Much to Alyna’s shock, as well as everyone else’s, she had even given Alyna a lingering kiss in front of Turalyon and Khadgar before the start of the battle, prompting the wizard to give Alyna a sly wink at the time. It would now appear he was not done with his teasing.

Alyna had spent the battle at Sylvanas’ side. As her general was not one for standing idle, that had meant plenty of action. The battle had already lasted longer than their first encounter ten days ago and she was starting to feel a deep weariness in her muscles. Still, she wasn’t about to complain – at least they were still alive. With their losses mounting, she would savour every moment she yet drew breath and would make sure each one was drawn at her beloved’s side.

Sylvanas had seemingly felt the same way, as whenever they drifted more than a few metres apart and she noticed first, she would quickly remedy the situation. Each time, Alyna had felt her general’s eyes quickly scan her body for fresh injuries and she would then visibly relax at the lack of any mortal ones. It was entirely inappropriate to feel such a thing in the middle of a battle, but Alyna was very much enjoying the attention even as she worried that Sylvanas was distracting herself a little too much. She trusted her general to know whether she was neglecting her duties though, and had left her to her examinations of her body.

Alyna smiled brightly at Khadgar, despite her weariness. If Sylvanas wasn’t going to hide their relationship, neither was she. Somehow, it had made her love the woman even more. She had not thought that even possible.

The atmosphere in the human ranks was noticeably strained. Both men had orc blood splattered over their armour and robe as they had been in the thick of the fighting.

“General,” acknowledged Turalyon as they came close enough to talk. He looked around at those gathered as Alleria and Lor'themar also arrived. “I don’t suppose anyone has any bright ideas?”

No one said anything. Eventually, Alleria said, “The orcs have stopped arriving from Alterac at least, though we’re not sure why. There should be more of them.”

Alyna spoke up too, “There’s no ogres either.”

“Or dragons,” added Lor'themar.

Turalyon looked back at the orcs. While the Alliance front line was occasionally being tested, most of the Horde had turned back to assault the city. “It would appear we are not a great enough threat to be worth focusing on.” It was a sobering thought. “Can we take advantage of that, I wonder?”

Khadgar asked the other question on their minds, “And where’s the rest of the Horde?”

Sylvanas added her own thoughts, “My scouts have not seen any force trying to flank us, leading me to believe they are still in Alterac.” She sneered her next words, “Perhaps Perenolde finally decided to put up some resistance.”

How the Horde had beat them to Capital City had been the subject of much debate the evening before. The only viable solution had been a distasteful one – they had been betrayed by Perenolde letting them through without a fight. It had been a stomach churning realisation, and a scenario that they had not prepared for.

Alleria asked, “Is it worth sending a team into the mountains to find out?”

Turalyon thought a few moments on the question. Alyna couldn’t help but notice he and Alleria always stood close to each other when they were together. Not for the first time, she wondered if something had happened between the two of them. “No,” he said finally. “Whatever has held the rest of the Horde up is beyond our control even if Perenolde has had a change of heart. We need everyone here and we’ll keep an eye out for the rest of them and deal with that if it happens. Our primary focus is making sure they don’t take Capital City.” They all nodded their agreement with their commander. He sighed. They were no closer to a plan to turn the tide.

They spent a few more minutes trying to come up with ideas before they went back to their units. Their only plan was to try and get the Horde’s attention in the hope that as long as they were the ones being attacked the city was not being hammered as hard as it could be. They were to watch for opportunities and maintain contact.

It was depressing, thought Alyna. While it was not in her nature to get into fights, she found it ludicrous that she was now trying to pick a very large one with thousands of orcs. She was also terrible at it, much to Sylvanas’ amusement. She had decided to try and get the orcs angry by bombarding them with fire, but instead of turning towards them en masse, they now ran away if they saw her get near.

As the sun began setting, a scout ran up to Sylvanas and pointed into the sky. With a feeling of dread, Alyna followed their gaze. Her heart fell as she saw a red dragon descend from the sky. It did not attack though, and it circled around for a minute before landing in an area hastily cleared for it some way away. A large orc was just about visible on the dragon’s back.

Sylvanas turned to the scout and ordered, “I want to know what’s over there. And who.” He nodded and departed swiftly.

“What are you thinking?” asked Alyna.

“Whoever that is, he wasn’t expected.” When Alyna didn’t respond, Sylvanas looked at her, sensing her confusion. “He had no interest in us. Even a brief attack by a single dragon would have been devastating. Yet, instead of trying to finish us off, he was intent on landing to … what? Pass on a report? What could be so important, and who would he be reporting to?”

“Their leader?”

“Presumably. I want to know what his reaction is to whatever he gets told.” Sylvanas looked over Alyna’s shoulder to the resting rangers behind her. “Get everyone on their feet and ready to move. I don’t know what it’s going to look like, but my gut tells me our chance is going to come soon.”

Alyna smiled, eager to be doing something other than standing around. As she went to carry out her orders, she could hear Sylvanas sending messengers to her captains and to Turalyon. They would have seen the dragon land, but the elves were closest and would have the better intelligence. They should also have more as soon as the scouts reported back from their mission.

It did not take long for something to happen. The scouts had reported that the orc leader had reacted angrily at the information he had received. The dragon had then mysteriously flown off towards the south with its rider, again ignoring the Alliance. A pair of heavily armoured orcs had eventually arrived in their leader’s presence and had taken their orders with obvious reluctance. A short time later, nearly half the orcs split off from the main army and headed south east, past Capital City towards the Hillsbrad Foothills. The Horde had originally made landfall near Southshore, one of the main settlements on the south coast of Hillsbrad. Alyna figured they were heading back to their ships for some unknown reason.

Anticipating the order to attack, Sylvanas had the rangers stealthily move around to try and flank the remaining orcs as another contingent tried to keep their attention away from the manoeuvre. As soon as the orcs that had split from the main army were over the horizon, the trumpets sounded the attack as the sun completely set on the battle. At the same time as Turalyon led a thundering cavalry charge into the Horde’s rear guard, Sylvanas led her people in a volley of arrows and spears. Alyna and the magisters rained fire, frost and arcane magic down on their enemy, lighting up the twilight in a spectacular array of colour.

The orcs were caught by surprise initially, though they eventually rallied themselves to turn on the rapidly advancing Alliance. The city had seen the counterattack and began their own vicious assault on the Horde’s frontline, managing to repel most of the orcs that had managed to scale the tall walls.

Alyna noticed Liadrin glancing occasionally in Turalyon’s direction, and smiled. The priestess had confided in Alyna that she admired what he was able to do with the Light. Turalyon had been a priest, like herself, until called to join the Alliance a scant few weeks ago. He had then retrained to become a Paladin along with four others, founding the Knights of the Silver Hand. It was a new school of thought that created holy warriors who were capable of empowering themselves, their weapons and their allies with the Light. The results were impressive, with the paladins being at the centre of the action, inspiring those around them. She wondered if Liadrin was considering converting to one herself, though she had a hard time imaging the other woman with a sword and shield.

Alyna happened to see an unusually large orc barrel towards them carrying a boulder with seemingly absurd ease. He hefted it over his head and she realised he was aiming for Sylvanas, who had her back to the attack. She took a couple of steps towards her general before launching herself into the other woman’s back. The arrow that had been pulled back went flying into the air as they landed awkwardly. The boulder landed a moment later and rolled further on before coming to a halt. Not knowing who had tackled her, Sylvanas instinctively threw her elbow back into Alyna’s kidney.

“It’s me!” she managed to say, wincing at the blow.

Sylvanas blinked and looked around, finally seeing the boulder and the large orc, now being attacked by a pair of heavily armoured elves. Alyna pulled herself off her lover, waving away the concern she saw for her side. She barely had time to register what happened next as Sylvanas rapidly sat up, loaded an arrow into her bow and fired it over Alyna’s shoulder, so close to her face that she felt the arrow’s wake wash over her. A deep grunt came from behind her, and a green body collapsed to her side.

She blinked at the female orc rogue, her clearly poisoned daggers still gripped tightly in her hands. She felt an arm snake around her waist at the same time as her nose caught Sylvanas’ unique scent at her side.

“We need to move,” Sylvanas said quickly, her eyes scanning the area for dangers. “We’ve advanced too far for their comfort, and it looks like they’re targeting anyone whose deaths they figure could weaken morale.”

She turned her head and looked up into Sylvanas’ face in surprise, “You want us to hide?”

Sylvanas glanced down to meet her eyes, amusement flashing through her own. “As if either of us would do that.” She shook her head, “Not hide. But you and I can do our thing and not need to be in the front line.” Sensing Alyna’s reluctance she added, “If you need it to be an order, then consider it so. This isn’t about us; if our deaths are required to win this then I would make it happen, but right now it would be detrimental to our efforts, and I will not risk this counterattack failing because we just want to be in the thick of it.” With her hand on her lower back, Sylvanas gently urged Alyna ahead of her, “Now, _move!_ ”

Reluctantly, Alyna obeyed. She was angry at the orcs for having kept them at bay for so long and when she had finally been able to vent her rage at them, she was being pulled back. She knew Sylvanas was right, and she could be just as effective at range, but she knew she would not find it as satisfying. She suddenly wondered when she had become so bloodthirsty, and why. Realising this was not the time for self-evaluation, she pushed the thoughts aside.

They fought into the night under a crescent moon, slowly grinding the orcs into retreat. Shortly after the moon set, and still hours before sunrise, the Alliance had their victory as the Horde fled the battle, following their brethren south. Unable to chase properly in the near darkness, Turalyon had them remain before the severely weakened but intact walls of Capital City. The cheers from the city were loud, and it was clear the citizens were celebrating. The army outside was unable to attend though; the piles of green corpses many rows deep around the walls.

Dealing with the dead would be the first task come sunrise, but until then, the army practically fell asleep where it had stood. The healers weaved around the living and dead tending to those who required it before finally succumbing to their own exhaustion. Alyna had fallen asleep, but had been aware enough to feel Sylvanas spooning up behind her once her sentry watch had ended. She snuggled back into the woman she loved. They were surrounded by the dead and dying, but for now they were alive and together. Despite it all, she was happy.

Dawn brought with it the horror of the night before. Close to a thousand corpses littered the plain; all of which needed to be tended to. The ones against the wall were set alight, the stench almost unbearable. They moved the rest of the orc bodies away from the city to be cremated downwind. The human casualties were eventually taken into Capital City for their own rites, while mages set up portals to Silvermoon to transport the elven dead home. Sylvanas had stood and watched each one be taken through, Alyna at her side. Out of the six hundred and forty elves Sylvanas had led into Lordaeron, she had just over a hundred dead, and a hundred and fifty wounded. A third of them had been seriously wounded enough to follow the dead through the portal. Those still able to fight had all elected to remain, a fact Alyna knew Sylvanas was proud of. The humans had suffered double the casualties and had a similar number wounded. The vast majority of the dead were orcs, a fact that pleased Alyna more than she would care to admit. She still felt some shame about her need to kill orcs.

Still, that need paled in comparison to her need to return home and confront the trolls, and the captains had all voiced a similar concern to Sylvanas. She had agreed with them, and had asked Turalyon for permission to return home. The imminent threat to Lordaeron was over and the rangers had a duty to their people. To everyone’s relief, he had understood. The Alliance army would continue to harass and pursue the Horde towards the coast, and the elves would return home to deal with the trolls. Sylvanas reaffirmed the Thalassian commitment to the Alliance before they left. Should the elves be needed in the future, they would respond, so long as their own borders were secure enough to do so.

As the troll threat was mainly in the southern lands of Quel’Thalas, it was quicker to march back than to try and get everyone through portals to Silvermoon and then race south. After maintaining the portals for so long for the dead and wounded, the mages were too tired to try again for days. They briefly encountered the other half of the Alliance army being led by Lord Lothar. Having finished mopping up all the orcs in the Hinterlands, they were marching north west to join with Turalyon. After exchanging news, the humans redirected themselves towards Southshore as the elves pushed on towards home.

Forgoing the mountains this time, they were still a couple of days from the Thalassian Pass when an all too familiar roar made the few trees shake around them. Looking up, they all saw a large red dragon bearing down on them. It appeared to be targeting the head of the marching column where Alyna and Sylvanas were riding together, amongst others.

“Move!” yelled Sylvanas, and the elves scattered in all directions. She tried to urge their horse into a gallop but it stumbled, sending both women flying.

Alyna rolled as she fell, finding her feet quickly. She turned and saw Sylvanas on the ground nearby and ran to her side. She was unconscious, a nasty gash on her temple bleeding lightly. Alyna swore and stood up to face the dragon. She began preparing a spell as she pulled Felo’alann from its scabbard before realising the futility of the move against a red dragon.

The fire scorched the ground, rapidly moving towards them as she stood over Sylvanas.

“Well, shit.”

Still too weak from creating portals, Alyna knew she was incapable of repeating her teleportation trick. Unable to think of anything else to do, she lay down on top of Sylvanas and drew on the power within her runeblade to create a basic frost shield around them both. She knew it would not be enough, but she had to try.

She buried her face into Sylvanas’ neck and held her close before whispering, “I love you.”


	12. Chapter 12

Alyna missed the runes on Felo’alann flaring to life as the fire touched her shield. The fire passed over them both, leaving them unharmed.

Alyna blinked and looked up. Smoke rose from everything around them as small fires dotted the area, but they and the patch of ground they lay on were fine. The dragon had been pulled around by its rider, and they were close enough that she could see the confusion on the orc’s face.

She didn’t wait for him to react. On a hunch, she prepared a fireball and focused on the orc as her target instead of the dragon. Obediently, the writhing ball of flame flew from her hand to impact his chest, throwing him off the back of the dragon to fall to his death. She heard the resounding crunch of his impact, and smiled with satisfaction.

A groan pulled her attention to the woman at her feet; Sylvanas was starting to regain consciousness. She knelt beside her and helped her sit up. She could see Liadrin running towards them with a couple of rangers before they suddenly skidded to a halt, their eyes widening in fear as they looked behind Alyna.

She risked looking back. The dragon had landed and was slowly moving towards them. Knowing she couldn’t attack it with magic, and realising it couldn’t use its fire on her, she turned her back to Sylvanas and placed herself defensively between her and the dragon.

“Flameheart,” the dragon intoned, its deep voice rumbling through her body. It blew air out through its nostrils and she could see it peering at the runeblade it had just named in a language Alyna realised was Draconic. It would appear she could not just read it now, but understand it too. “You carry the essence of life with you, child of the sun. I will not hurt you.”

She raised an eyebrow at the dragon whom she realised was male. While she was apparently immune to his fire, she realised that if he had wanted to hurt her his claws and teeth would have easily killed her. The dragon was nervously eyeing the elves behind her and she held her hand out towards them to stop them from advancing further. She risked a glance back and signalled for Liadrin to tend to Sylvanas as she turned back to the dragon.

“Why are you attacking us?” she asked, stunned to find the draconic words flowing from her mind as naturally as breathing.

He seemed genuinely distressed as he answered, “I … we … have no choice, young one. I am forbidden to say why, but know my flight reveres all life. Our being forced into the taking of it is deeply grievous to us all.”

She could not begin to imagine what hold the orcs could have over the ancient creatures, but she knew he would not elaborate further if she pushed him. She moved closer to him and could see long deep marks across his scaled skin. She realised with horror he had been whipped and beaten into submission by the orcs.

“You’re wounded,” she said, her voice conveying her sadness at his condition.

He bowed his great head, pain evident in his eyes. “My kin suffer as much if not more than I. My wounds shall heal in time.”

Her runeblade throbbed at her side and she felt a compulsion flow through her. She raised the blade towards him, and he flinched away slightly before remembering she could not hurt him with her magic. Somehow knowing it would work, she willed the dragon to be healthy. Flames leapt forth from Felo’alann towards his wounds, bathing his injuries. Sighing with relief, the dragon stretched his massive wings to give her full access to his body, and she moved around his large frame, the flames healing him.

When she finished, she moved towards his head. He lowered his nose and she placed a small hand on a large nostril, smiling at him. “Better?”

He rumbled his contentment at her and she chuckled, recognising it as a happy sound.

By now, Sylvanas was back on her feet and Alyna walked over to join her. The elves had gathered to watch what had been going on, and Sylvanas shared in their curiosity.

“Care to explain what in the Sunwell is happening?” She shook her head gently, “I hit my head and now you’re speaking to a dragon in its own language.”

Alyna chuckled, “You can thank Felo’alann for that.” She looked down at the only patch of ground around them that wasn’t burnt. “Actually, you can thank Felo’alann for all of it.”

“So I hear,” replied Sylvanas, following her gaze to the green grass at their feet. She shuddered, then looked at the dragon and then back to Alyna. “Will it let us pass?”

Alyna repeated the question in draconic to the dragon, and he held his head up attentively, appearing to listen to sounds she was incapable of detecting herself.

“You and yours need not fear me, Flameheart. None of my kin are near either.” He tilted his head thoughtfully, a gesture that surprised her as it was typically humanoid. “The orcs will not miss me for a time, and honour will have me repay the debt of you tending my wounds.” He lowered his wing to display the saddle on his back. “You are lighter than orcs. I could transport six of you if you desire. You appear to be in a hurry to get somewhere.”

Alyna beamed at him. “That would be marvellous! Yes, we are urgently required back in our homeland.”

Sylvanas was looking at her, not bothering to disguise her impatience, “What did it say?”

Grinning widely, she answered, “I just found us a shortcut home.”

Sylvanas tilted her own head in confusion before her eyes widened in realisation. She looked at the dragon, then back at Alyna. “Oh, no! No. Definitely no.”

She shrugged, “You need to get home quickly to lead our people. He can get us there.”

“No.”

“What are you afraid of?” she teased.

“It’s a dragon!”

Alyna laughed. “There’s no fooling you, is there?” The scowl Sylvanas gave her could have melted metal. She changed tack, “Have you any better ideas?”

Sylvanas looked back at the dragon. She hesitantly asked, “Is it friendly?”

“ _He_ is the least of our worries, _and_ willing to help.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret this?”

Alyna smiled, “Trust me.”

Sylvanas groaned at the fatalistic words, “I’m _definitely_ going to regret this.”

* * *

“I’m very much regretting this!” yelled Sylvanas into the wind.

Alyna laughed her joy. She had ridden dragonhawks before, but dragons flew higher, and faster, and she was exhilarated. Sylvanas was sitting behind her, her arms tightly wrapped around Alyna’s waist. She’d had to ask her twice to loosen her grip, which she had done for mere seconds before clinging on for dear life again.

Alyna leant back so she wasn’t shouting as much, making sure only Sylvanas could only hear her, “I didn’t know you were afraid of heights.”

Her lover pressed her lips against her ear to reply, sending shivers down her spine. “I’m not!”

“My ribs say otherwise!”

“I’m just not enamoured with the idea of plummeting to my death!”

“Ah, is that all?” Alyna turned her head to face her general and winked. Sylvanas rolled her eyes and gave Alyna a tender squeeze. Her face then turned serious as she caught sight of something. Alyna followed her gaze, and gasped. She leant forward to speak to their dragon-friend, whose name she had learnt was Ceristrasz. She tapped his shoulder to get his attention and pointed to the north west, “Can you take us closer to that village please?” It would take them many miles out of their way, but this was one detour she knew they had to make.

He turned his head so he could see where she was pointing, and slowly began to bank around towards the village. Smoke was rising from various homes. As they got closer they could make out tiny figures running around, some of whom were clearly trolls.

“General!” came Zendarin’s angry cry from behind Sylvanas. “We have to do something!”

“Oh, we will,” came the determined reply.

Alyna leant forward again. “Can you take us in to land please? We need to stop this.”

His whole body vibrated as he spoke, “There are many of them, and six of you. You will perish.”

“We have to try! That’s our home, Ceristrasz. That’s Windrunner Village! Surely even dragons have homes they defend with their lives no matter the odds?” She knew she sounded desperate but they were at his mercy. If he decided to fly away, there was nothing they could do about it.

His growl rumbled through all of them and he began what Alyna recognised as an attack run. His first breath of fire set a dozen trolls on fire. They had seen him approach but were unprepared for the attack, having expected him to be their ally. He landed not far from their corpses, the elves hanging on tightly at his sudden movements. The trolls were still stunned at his arrival and did not move until after he had clamped his jaws down on a nearby pair. Some of the trolls tried to attack but were swept violently away by a front paw. He swung his body around with inhuman ease to swipe at half a dozen more with his tail. As smooth as their flight had been, Alyna now felt like her internal organs were about to escape through her mouth. The few remaining trolls tried to flee, but found arrows protruding from their backs from Sylvanas and the two other rangers who’d accompanied them from her unit, Sela and Raynin.

When the threat was over, Ceristrasz lowered his wing and the six elves slid off his back and ran into the village. The rangers and Liadrin began helping the wounded as Alyna followed Sylvanas and Zendarin to various dwellings. Their faces became harder, and she knew they were finding dead relatives. The village was named for their family, and out of the three hundred residents, roughly sixty of them could claim Windrunner lineage. She heard Zendarin howl his grief from one particularly well kept dwelling, and knew he had found his parents. She knew her own heart was breaking at the devastation that had been wrought on the village and she couldn’t imagine what the pair were going through. While not from the village, she had spent most her free time as an adult at the nearby Windrunner Spire with Sylvanas. She knew these people, and their slaughter was impossible to take in.

There were survivors, and they began to surround her. They knew her, trusted her, and she knew they wanted to be reassured they would be okay. She had no idea what to tell them. She knew their lives were irrevocably changed. She knelt by a wide eyed child. She had blood splattered on her face, and Alyna reached out to wipe it gently away. She didn’t have to ask whose it was; the child was alone. When she stood, she wordlessly moved the child to stand next to a weeping woman. She took the woman’s hand and placed in on the child’s shoulder. It didn’t stay there for long as they both decided to cling to each other. Alyna sighed. She couldn’t fix their broken homes but they would have each other for now. That would have to be enough.

She looked around, but couldn’t see her general.

“Has anyone seen Sylvanas?”

An elderly man she recognised pointed south, words failing him. She felt her heart stop. Sylvanas had gone to the Spire. Alyna ran through the rest of the village. She bolted down the forest path that led to the Spire, ignoring the burn in her legs as it began to curve up the hill. The Spire itself was built on top of, and into, a cliff, and she sprinted the length of the long path that led to the main doors. She came to a stop just inside the doors, breathing heavily. Sylvanas was on her knees inside the foyer, holding a body. Before her, arranged in a macabre pile, were the house staff who had served the family faithfully for as long as Alyna could remember.

She gingerly stepped through the blood and slowly knelt beside Sylvanas, not wanting to startle her. She was shaking as she held the body of Lirath, her brother and the youngest of the four siblings. Alyna closed her eyes with her own grief. She had not seen him since he was five years old, but she had adored him. His ears were gone, as were those belonging to the others. Sylvanas’ pained sob drew her back to their wretched reality, and she reached out to hold her. Her touch seemed to trigger something in Sylvanas and she let go of her grief. Tears flowed freely down her face as Alyna held her tightly from behind.

Eventually, she sagged back into Alyna, her energy spent. Alyna gently pulled Sylvanas’ hair back from her face, making soothing sounds. She bit her lip before asking her question softly, “Are there others around the Spire?”

Sylvanas choked on her first words before replying, “Not been able to look.” She began shaking again.

“Would you like me to?”

She turned to look at Alyna for the first time, her eyes red with her crying. She nodded slowly before looking back at her brother.

Alyna felt torn. She wanted to make good on her suggestion, but leaving Sylvanas now felt wrong. She realised that normally Sylvanas would not ask someone else to do what Alyna had volunteered to do for her. She would always face her challenges head on. Either she didn’t expect Alyna to find anything, or she expected the worst, and after finding her brother she was unable to deal with also finding her parents.

Alyna rose gingerly from the floor, the congealed blood making the marble slippery. She doubted there were any trolls still present, but she drew Felo’alann anyway. Slowly, she made her way through the familiar rooms of the Spire. Each room she cleared brought with it memories of happier times. The kitchens held most of the blood, and she realised the majority of the staff had been caught and killed here before being moved. One had been seemingly surprised in a hallway, while she found another messy scene in the main living room. As she moved into the private areas of the Spire, she found herself breathing heavily with fear. She closed her eyes against the gore she found in Lirath’s bedroom. It was not the room of a young child anymore, but that of a young man full of dreams. She leant against the doorframe and wondered if she’d ever be rid of the image before her.

Shaking herself free of the thoughts threatening to overwhelm her, she pressed on. The rooms the sisters had all occupied had been searched by the invaders, but left otherwise intact. She growled her anger at the fact – they had been there for lives, not treasure. Her heart was so low that even the heady scent of Sylvanas that permeated her rooms failed to rouse her spirits.

That only left the private quarters of Talath and Ya’dana Windrunner, Sylvanas’ parents. The door to their upper rooms was open, and she slowly edged up the wide staircase. Her heart pounded in her ears as she edged around the door of each room, expecting the worst.

The worst never came, and she heaved a sigh of relief when she cleared the final room. Sheathing her runeblade, she made her way back down to the foyer.

Sylvanas was standing, her brother’s body at her feet, his blood all down the front of her body. She looked at Alyna fearfully, and visibly relaxed when she shook her head to confirm she had not found any more bodies. When Alyna opened her arms, Sylvanas accepted the embrace without hesitation. They stood there for a long while, Alyna stroking her hair and back without saying a word.

In time, Sylvanas pulled away and looked at Lirath. Her voice cracked as she spoke, “He was about to join the Farstrider Academy. It was all he could talk about the last time I was home.” There was nothing Alyna could say to that, so she remained quiet. Sylvanas turned back to her. “Thank you for being here. I’m … not sure I could have handled this alone.”

She cupped her general’s face with both hands. “We’ll make them pay for this.” Her words had their intended effect and fire flashed through Sylvanas’ eyes. Alyna took a deep breath and looked at the mutilated bodies. “With your permission, I’ll have Liadrin preserve their bodies. We don’t have time to give them a proper burial, but we will honour them as soon as we’re able. Once they have been avenged.”

Sylvanas nodded mutely. Alyna took her hand in her own and squeezed. When Sylvanas squeezed back, she knew she was ready.

Hand in hand, they left the Spire to its ghosts for the time being.

At the bottom of the path they found the other four elves, and a fifth male with vibrant red hair. Alyna immediately sensed his true nature. She had heard dragons could take humanoid form, but to actually see it was another thing. He looked perfectly normal, and she was sure she could only sense his nature because of her bond with Felo’alann. They were all covered in various amounts of blood, including Ceristrasz.

Zendarin looked defeated, and Alyna pulled him into a tight hug. Wordlessly, Liadrin did the same to Sylvanas, surprising the general. Alyna understood the gesture. Liadrin’s parents had been killed by trolls when she was very young, orphaning her. She had been raised by High Priest Vandellor, a man she now regarded as her father. Only a few years ago, Liadrin had been captured by the Amani leader, Zul’jin, along with Lor’themar. They had both been tortured before their escape. Liadrin had a particularly strong hatred for the trolls, and also understood the personal loss the Windrunner’s were now experiencing.

Alyna turned to Ceristrasz. He was obviously upset at the loss of life in the village, which endeared him to her. The dragons were notorious for not wanting anything to do with the mortal races, particularly the elves who they blamed for bringing the Burning Legion to their home. The other dragonflights had not been seen since, but the reds had not entirely given up on the younger races. They were the guardians of all life, and thus loved all of it unconditionally. She realised that included the trolls, and taking their lives must have been just as painful as seeing the destruction they had caused.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

He nodded. “I will have to return to my kin soon. Are you ready to continue?” He spoke in perfect Thalassian, surprising Alyna.

She looked at the others and received small nods. He moved away from them to change back into his natural form, and they climbed back into the large saddle that was somehow still on his back. The journey to Tranquillien would normally have taken them nearly a couple of days. Ceristrasz covered the distance in a few hours. The land between had been devastated by fire and war. Not a single village they passed had been left untouched. She felt her own rage build inside her as she knew it was in the others.

The dragon landed half a mile from Tranquillien, not wanting to risk being attacked by getting any closer.

Alyna thanked him for all his help before adding, “I don’t know what hold the orcs have over you and your kin, Ceristrasz, but if we can help in any way, please let us.”

He lowered his head to her level, sadness in his eyes. “It is not our way to bring mortals into our business, young one, even if they are the cause of our problems.” He snorted air out through his nostrils in frustration. She realised he didn’t agree with how other dragons viewed mortals. “I will raise your offer with my kin, though I expect they will decline. And you have problems of your own to attend to now. But, I thank you. To want to help others despite your own struggles is admirable.”

She smiled sadly at him before patting his nose gently. He backed away so she would not be caught in the downdraft caused by his wings. Before he took off, he cautioned her, “Your runeblade carries the very essence of my flight, and you are bonded to it. The rage you feel must be focused and tempered if you are to thrive. Give in to the chaos, and you will be lost to it. Succeed, and you will be a guardian of life as we are. Your destiny is not entirely set, child of the sun. Be wise.”

Many questions flooded her mind but he left before she had a chance to even fully comprehend his words. She stared after him, suddenly afraid of her own future. The bronze dragons were the protectors of Time, but all dragons had their own relationships with fate and destiny. He had felt a strong need to warn her, and that was never a good thing.

Sylvanas moved to stand beside her, resting her hand on Alyna’s lower back. “Are you okay? Whatever he said to you seems to have thrown you somewhat.”

Alyna shook her head, mainly to clear it of her doubts before turning to her lover. “I’m fine.” She knew Sylvanas was not convinced so she added a soft smile. “There’ll be time for it later.” She allowed her anger to sound in her voice, “We have work to do.”

Sylvanas nodded, and they joined the others to walk the rest of the way to Tranquillien.


	13. Chapter 13

Ranger Captain Menora had greeted them on their arrival with grim news. In the nearly three weeks they had been gone, the trolls had destroyed most of southern Quel’Thalas. Tranquillien was the only hold out, though Menora was getting ready to evacuate the remaining civilians along with what was left of her company. She only had a third of her people left, and most of the volunteers were also dead. Sylvanas had looked at her with fear until Menora quickly reassured her that Vereesa was alive and safe.

As they walked towards the barracks, Sylvanas asked, “How far along are you in the evacuation plans?”

“We should be ready to leave tomorrow afternoon.” She sounded tired, and was walking with a noticeable limp.

“How many civilians? Children? Elderly?”

“Just over a hundred civilians. No children, but about two dozen elderly.” At Sylvanas’ inquisitive look at the low numbers she explained, “After you left I advised the Mayor to ask for volunteer evacuees. All of the families with children headed north. Those who remained either can’t go easily, or won’t go. Including the Mayor.”

Sylvanas nodded. “That was good thinking.” She looked at Alyna, who had been listening closely. “I’m sure you have an opinion on this?” There were few constants in the world, but she knew her beloved having an opinion was one of them. She had become bold in sharing it since they had reconciled, a fact Sylvanas was quietly enjoying. If she didn’t hear it now, she would hear all about it later.

Alyna looked between the two rangers before replying, “I think we should stay. Move everyone into a few defensible buildings with limited access points, and wait for the army to arrive in a few days.”

Menora shook her head insistently. “How can you recommend that? If we stay, we die!”

“If we leave, we die,” retorted Alyna. “You didn’t see what we did from the air. Everything between here and the Elrendar River has been destroyed. There is no cover, no hiding. We will see them coming, but they will see us too and they will see how vulnerable we are. We have, what? Sixty rangers to defend a hundred of our most vulnerable civilians? We can’t even break down into smaller teams and disappear into the forest. There is no forest!”

“Their magic is powerful,” Menora countered. “They won’t need to attack us if they manage to hex more than a few of us into slaughtering each other for them. If we’re all in one place, we’ll be helping them do that.”

Alyna smiled almost cruelly, “We have our own magic, Menora. Their shamans need to have a direct line of sight in order to place hexes. We’ll be ready for them.”

“We’ve Zendarin, two retired magi, a priestess, and you.” Menora shook her head sadly, “Forgive me, Lady Salonar, but that does not inspire me with confidence.”

“Would this help?” Alyna drew Felo’alann from her scabbard. The runes flared fiercely to life and her eyes lit up brightly with the power it granted her.

Sylvanas smothered a grin at Menora’s reaction. There were only a handful of bonded runeblade wielders in their society, and all were recognised as powerful and special, and utterly unique in their capabilities. Menora cast an amazed look at Sylvanas, who shrugged in return. “A few things happened while we were away.”

“You don’t say!” replied the stunned captain. She looked between the two women before focusing on Sylvanas. “You agree with her, don’t you?”

Sylvanas nodded. “I do. Your solution was a sound one based on what you knew, but Alyna is right. We’d be rounded up like hawkstriders and be little more than target practice.” She sighed. “Our best bet is to outlast them until the army arrives.” She looked between the two strong women before her. “I have faith that we can figure this out.”

“Yes, General,” came the dual replies.

“Sylvanas?”

She turned just in time to take Vereesa into her arms. She held on tightly, relieved to see her baby sister. Vereesa responded by tightening her own grip and Sylvanas felt her grief at the knowledge she carried well up inside. The sob escaped before she could prevent it.

Vereesa pulled back in shock. “What is it? What’s happened?” She looked at Vereesa with wide eyes, unable to start. Vereesa’s eyes were darting between her own in panic. “Is it Alleria? Is Alleria alright?”

Sylvanas swallowed the lump in her throat, holding tightly onto her sister’s shoulders. “Alleria’s fine. She’s on her way back with the army.” She glanced at Alyna who was looking just as stricken as she felt before she looked back to Vereesa. “We … we need to talk. Somewhere quiet.”

Vereesa nodded numbly, sensing the worst. They all walked into the barracks for the limited privacy they would provide.

* * *

 

Sylvanas felt wretched. Vereesa had been inconsolable for hours. As the two youngest, and nearest in age, Lirath and Vereesa had been very close. After much thought and consideration, she had decided to ask Zendarin and Alyna to open a portal to Silvermoon. They could only hold it open for a few seconds, but that had been enough for Vereesa and the most infirm of the elderly to go through. Vereesa had told her that their parents had gone to Silvermoon not long after the army had left, and she was now going to inform them of what had happened to their village. She was also to report to the Council and tell them everything that had happened in Lordaeron, and beg them to send the remaining mages and priests south to assist the army with the trolls once they arrived. They would need all the help they could get in the days to come. She could have sent a civilian, but she wanted her parents to hear the news from one of their own. She was also deeply concerned that Vereesa’s grief would be a liability, and keeping her safe would help Sylvanas as well.

Alyna stirred at her side, and she brushed her lips against the sleeping woman’s forehead. She could not begin to fathom how she would have coped through the last twelve hours without Alyna’s steady support. She couldn’t figure how she had survived the last twenty years either. In just days, Alyna had become absolutely vital to Sylvanas’ wellbeing. They were both different people than they had been years ago, and that was reflected in how their relationship had developed. They had learnt some very hard lessons about themselves, and each other, and she was surprised at how easily they were adapting to their new circumstances. She knew they still had many hurdles before them, none the least of which was surviving the war and confronting their own rigid society with their new status, but somehow she knew they would be together no matter what it took.

It brought her great comfort. She was not alone; not anymore.

She gently tightened her grip around Alyna, and the woman unconsciously responded by snuggling deeper into her side. The movement made her heart swell with emotion. Every moment they’d had to catch some sleep, they had done so together. It had brought Sylvanas a simple but deep joy to wake up with Alyna in her arms. How she had spent a century denying herself such a pleasure she couldn’t fathom. She smiled. Some lessons had been harder than others, but she knew she was a better woman for learning from her mistakes. And, more importantly, a better partner for Alyna. That was what truly mattered to her, she realised.

She kissed the mage’s forehead before whispering softly, “I love you, my darling.” Some part of Alyna seemed to recognise the words and she murmured something back incomprehensibly, making Sylvanas release a throaty chuckle. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek on Alyna’s head, enjoying the feel of her hair and breathing in her scent. No matter what was to come, she knew as long as she could fall asleep like this each night, she would be fine.

* * *

 

It took most of the morning, but the rangers managed to relocate all of the civilians into the mayor’s home. Sylvanas knew the mayor was not happy at the invasion, but she didn’t care. It was one of the biggest and most secure buildings in the village. Importantly, the area around it was defensible, and it had a spire where she could station rangers. There was no room for all of the civilians and the rangers, so Sylvanas placed her people in four other buildings immediately around the mayor’s home as a defence perimeter, each with a mage assigned to protect them from magic. Sylvanas had assigned herself into one of the perimeter buildings with Alyna, something the mayor had not agreed with.

“And who will protect us if you’re killed, General?” she demanded to know.

“I have every confidence in Ranger Captain Menora, my Lady. She will be in charge of defending the civilians while I command our perimeter forces.”

“That is unacceptable!” cried the mayor.

Sylvanas had had enough. “You’re absolutely right,” she started. As the mayor began to smile, Sylvanas continued, “Menora is far too valuable to our effort to leave her idle with you and wasting her considerable skill. She’ll be out on the perimeter where she belongs making sure your ass stays safe instead of babysitting it.” Before the mayor could recover, she turned on her heel and left the manor house.

Alyna had been outside during the exchange and fell into step beside her.

“You enjoyed that,” she said with amusement.

Sylvanas gave her a quirky grin. “You’re damn right I did.” She then became more serious. “Have the trolls been sighted yet?”

Alyna shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Hm. They’ll come. They won’t allow Tranquillien to remain intact.”

When the elves had come to Quel’Thalas all those years ago, they had founded Silvermoon, and had almost immediately come under attack by the forest trolls. Eventually, they learnt they had settled on ground considered sacred by the trolls. After being exiled out of their home and wandering for so long, they had decided to stand their ground. The Sunwell had already been created and they were not going to abandon it, or destroy it. The trolls had never left them alone since. It was nearly three thousand years since the trolls had last come close to defeating the elves, and she knew they now smelt blood. They would come for them, and there would be no mercy.

They met up with Menora and her remaining five lieutenants. They briefly reported on the preparations within the four sentry buildings, as they were being called. Once that was done, Sylvanas decided it was time to extend their preparations.

“I want the trolls funnelled into the streets immediately around those buildings. We cannot allow them to flank us.”

“There’re too many open streets and too few of us for that,” observed a lieutenant, albeit shyly.

Sylvanas looked around at them all. “Then we close those streets, even if we have to bring down the buildings along them to do it. The only way we win this is if we control the battle. We will set up further sentry buildings along the routes we want them to take, and we can retreat back down each in turn behind blockades we control. As each is overrun, we retreat.”

Menora looked at her lieutenants then back at Sylvanas. “Forgive me, General, but isn’t that just prolonging the inevitable?”

“That is exactly what it is doing. I fully expect our army to arrive in two to three days, and we will be here to greet them. If we’re buried up to our ear-tips in trolls, but still alive, I will take it. To that end, we need to delay them.”

“And if they don’t arrive in time?” Menora looked directly at Sylvanas as she asked, but it was Alyna who answered.

“Then we take as many of the murdering bastards with us as we can.”

A pair of lieutenants enthusiastically cheered their response while the rest nodded their agreement. In time, Menora also nodded, and Sylvanas began assigning their jobs for as long as the trolls would permit them to work on their plan.

As the sun set on their efforts, the report she had been dreading came – several hundred trolls were surrounding them. She knew they would wait until the last rays had faded before they attacked. It was the last night of the new moon so there would be no help from the heavens. She ordered all light sources be extinguished to increase their ability to see in the dark, and she hoped the civilians would abide by the order to not light up their location like a beacon.

Sylvanas and Alyna had taken positions in a spire overlooking the first barricade in their section. There were a trio of rangers in a similar position on the other side of the street, while others were on the barricade itself. They had pulled down buildings using magic and used the rubble to create them, as well as to block the other streets. Spears and swords had been integrated into the piles and barricades, and everything had been drenched in tar. They had even managed to rig a couple of catapults for later use. She realised she was grateful the trolls were not fond of siege equipment. It gave them a fighting chance.

They heard the war cries long moments before they saw the trolls themselves. Their eagerness rapidly turned to pain as they encountered the caltrops that had been thrown over the barricade as soon as darkness had fallen. They let the barbs do their work on the trolls’ naked feet, the first casualties slowing down all those behind. She heard as some were trampled to death as their bloodthirsty tribesmen ran over them. When she thought the effectiveness of the caltrops was over, she gave a sharp whistle and they began to rain down arrows. Alyna was also using her bow for now. She wanted to keep their possession of magic quiet for as long as possible.

She smiled slowly. _Let them think we have no magi. They will get reckless, and we will punish them for it._ She looked to her side and swelled with pride at the sight of Alyna beside her. They had always fought well together; a fortunate side effect of their close relationship. They rarely needed words to communicate while they fought, intuitively knowing what the other was going to do next. She had never had that level of understanding with anyone else. Alyna’s magic had added a new aspect to that particular part of their relationship. She was still learning what Alyna could do with it, as was Alyna herself. She was learning new things about her abilities almost daily, driven by her bonding with the runeblade. Sylvanas had an inkling that her beloved was finally accepting her magical talent now she could see the maturation of it, though she knew Alyna was some way off from admitting it to anyone but herself.

To everyone’s surprise, they managed to keep the trolls at the first barricade through most of the night. The rangers had responded viciously to each attack the trolls threw at them, and though that had made the trolls wary, they were not defeated. During a lull in the fighting, one of the rangers on the barricade began screaming, and then a second voice joined in. Both Sylvanas and Alyna looked down in surprise – two of the rangers on the barricade and turned on their brothers and sisters and were attacking them.

Alyna murmured some words under her breath and gestured at the hexed elves. They dropped to the floor as the spell that had possessed them was released, but the damage had been done as two of their own lay dead. The trolls chose that moment to attack in force, and Sylvanas knew her people would not recover in time. The barricade was lost, so she whistled for a retreat while they were still able to. As those at the barricade fled to the next, she nocked an arrow. Alyna lit the tip of it and she fired into the tar-soaked barrier, the fire catching rapidly. She knew Alyna could have done it herself, but she wanted to maintain the charade of having no magi for as long as possible. She and Alyna stowed the few arrows they had left and ran to the back of the building. A rope had been run from the top of a window to the next building. They slung their bows over the top of the rope and slid down to the next building. After cutting the rope, they ran through and did the same on the other side until they reached the next barricade.

More caltrops were laid out, and the chasing trolls ran into them.

Alyna’s words were tinged with surprise, “They either have short memories, or they don’t care.”

“If they’re not trampled they’ll be back in the fight soon enough, so I’m guessing the latter,” mused Sylvanas. One advantage the trolls had was their impressive ability to regenerate from injury. She had watched a troll regrow fingers and toes, so a few caltrops would be more of a nuisance than anything. Their purpose was mainly to cause chaos though, and they were just as effective the second time round as the first.

They remained at the barricade for the rest of the night and into the next morning. The other three ranger groups had fared similarly to Sylvanas’ and they were all on their second barricade. As the attacks became weaker, the elves began to take short naps in shifts. They were vulnerable to the shaman during the daylight and so tried to remain out of sight as much as possible. The catapults were used to launch projectiles over the barricades without being in direct line of sight of the enemy, and those perched in higher places used their concealment to keep trolls away from the barricades as much as possible. It was an exhausting waiting game as the trolls bided their time for nightfall. It couldn’t come soon enough for Sylvanas. She always preferred to be in the thick of battle than to wait around for it.

When it came, the trolls did not disappoint in their fervour. They charged through yet more caltrops and threw themselves bodily into the barricade. Most were impaled on the various sharp objects jutting out of the wall, but that did not deter those who followed. They used the bodies of the fallen as shields against the barricade’s defences, and they began to climb up it.

Sylvanas swore. “Alyna …”

“Got it,” came the terse reply.

As Alyna began to prepare a spell, Sylvanas pulled her horn from her belt and blew into it, giving the signal to the other groups that they were able to use magic freely. As she tied it back in place she saw trolls sliding off the wall as ice began to form at their feet.

Sylvanas turned to her lover to ask curiously, “Ice?” She had not seen her cast such a spell before.

Alyna shrugged, “I figured you didn’t want the wall set alight just yet. I might be a pyromaniac now, but I’m still not attuned.”

She chuckled at the scrambling trolls. “Good thinking.”

The ice only slowed them down, and Alyna was forced to start casting fireballs at them, though she concentrated on those further back from the wall. Unfortunately, it was the kind of magic that streamed from her hand, and the source was traced back to their position in the building. The fire in her hand also lit up the room each time, and the trolls used it as a target. Axes and spears began to fly through the window, the wall behind them beginning to look ridiculous as they buried themselves into it.

“Well,” started Sylvanas after a couple hours of dodging projectiles, “at least those weapons are useless to them now.”

Alyna looked at them thoughtfully and then began to pull them out of the wall where they had embedded themselves. Sylvanas watched as the other woman explained her actions. “I know you didn’t always understand why I hated my years in Quel’Danas. But it was _so_ mind-numbingly boring. For years and years, do you know what they had me do?” She yanked out a spear and placed it in front of the window, joining the small pile she had made.

“Not really.”

“Sweep floors. Clean windows. Dust ledges. That is the lot of a new apprentice – to use basic magic to manipulate objects into menial tasks.” She growled her frustration, and Sylvanas immediately understood. She wasn’t fond of housework either, and she certainly had never been reduced to doing nothing else for years. For a young adult away from home for the first time, it was perhaps acceptable, but not for a seasoned veteran like Alyna. “Perhaps, if they’d let me do _this_ , I’d have been far more amenable to being trained.”

Before Sylvanas could ask what she meant, she was forced to take a step back as the weapons on the floor rose up into the air. One by one, they were launched at great speed through the window and she could hear the deadly results in the street below. Both of her eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Remind me never to ask you to do the housework. I get the feeling I’ll be ducking for cover.”

The resultant laugh was low and long, and it vibrated through Sylvanas’ body. They were definitely going to have to get a housekeeper.

Eventually, they were forced to retreat to the last sentry buildings, this time by their running out of arrows. Unable to keep the trolls back from the barricade, they began to overrun it. After giving the rangers a chance to retreat, Alyna allowed a good number of trolls to climb onto the wall of rubble before she set it on fire. Sylvanas watched as she stood in the window, the glow of the fire washing back across Alyna’s features. She realised a part of Alyna was enjoying what she had done. She wanted to feel disgusted at the idea, but these were trolls. After what they had done to her family, and to her people, they deserved what they got.

The trolls did not let up once dawn broke, continuing their assault relentlessly. She realised there were possibly a couple of reasons for this. The first was obvious to everyone and very much a concern in that the trolls could now get a glimpse of the large manor house. It was clear the elves had nowhere else to fall back to other than the house once the last barricades were destroyed. It wasn’t a question of if the last barricades would be destroyed either. Both sides knew it was only a matter of time. This was giving the trolls an edge as their victory was literally in sight.

The other reason was perhaps Sylvanas’ wishful thinking. By her calculations, the rest of her Farstriders should be in elven lands and within a day’s march of Tranquillien. The trolls would have been informed of this by now via their scouts, and they would be trying to finish the battle before the army came into play. As soon as she had become aware of the situation in Tranquillien she had sent a single ranger south to intercept the army and order them to the village with all due haste. She had no idea if he had been successful or killed along the way. If he had got through, they would be here soon. If he hadn’t, they could be anywhere.

Through the day, the troll shaman attacked the barricade using magic and hexes. It was all Alyna could do to keep up with their attacks by putting out fires, melting ice, removing hexes and occasionally trying to retaliate. There were only four rangers left on their particular barricade, and Sylvanas knew the others were not faring any better.

Alyna prepared another fireball behind the wall and swung out to throw it. As soon as it was out of her hand, she cried out in pain and was thrown backwards.

“Alyna!” Sylvanas cried in horror. She was immediately by Alyna’s side as she gazed back at her with wide eyes. A spear had pierced completely through her left shoulder. Her body was shaking with the shock of the trauma. “Alyna! Look at me; stay with me, love.” A quick inspection of the spear calmed her worst fear – it was not poisoned. The wound would not be fatal as long as she could keep Alyna calm and from losing too much blood. That meant the shaft had to remain in place until Liadrin could heal her. She quickly went to the window, trying to stay out of sight of the trolls until the last moment, and whistled down to the barricade. Using sign language, she ordered one of the rangers to find the priestess before going back to Alyna.

Much to Alyna’s discomfort, Sylvanas dragged her to a corner of the room and helped her sit up. The last thing she wanted was another weapon to come through the window and do more damage.

“Help me stand,” came Alyna’s pained words.

“You need to rest.”

“I need to keep casting or they’ll climb the barricade.” Alyna looked at her, her features filled with her pain.

She couldn’t deny what Alyna had told her was true, and she found she was fighting herself. She wanted to protect this woman, but she knew she was right. She bit the inside of her mouth hard before looking back at her beloved. “Can you freeze small parts of the shaft so I can break it off? That’ll make it easier for you to move.”

Alyna’s nod was minimal. Sylvanas took hold of the shaft, and pulled the spear back through Alyna’s wound so the spearhead was up against her back. Alyna’s eyes glazed over with the pain and Sylvanas held her waist tightly, preventing her from fainting onto the floor. It had been necessary to minimise the length of what was jutting out of the back of her shoulder. Eventually, Alyna took hold of a part of the spear a few inches in front of her wound. The air around it cooled rapidly and the wood froze. Sylvanas took hold of the piece and twisted it, snapping off the shaft. Alyna grunted with the movement, but was resolved to endure the pain. Sylvanas pulled a small vial of healing potion from a pouch and gave some to Alyna to help dull the pain. She had no idea where Liadrin was, but knew it must be important if she wasn’t here yet.

If she wasn’t dead.

She pushed the thought aside and retrieved Felo’alann for her lover before helping Alyna stand. It was awkward at first, but they managed to find a rhythm between themselves. She helped Alyna balance and move, and Alyna focused on keeping the trolls busy.

Alyna growled her frustration and pain. “This isn’t enough.”

“There’s nothing else we can do.” Sylvanas knew she sounded dejected. If anyone else were with them she would have swallowed it, but there was only Alyna, and she would have known anyway.

Alyna looked out of the window thoughtfully. From their position up against the wall, they were barely able to see through it but they could see one of the buildings across the street in front of the barricade. Alyna turned slightly in her arms and gave Sylvanas a soft kiss. “Look out for spears for me please? I’ll need to be exposed for a while.”

“I don’t like the sound of this.” She could still feel the echo of Alyna’s kiss against her lips.

“I can’t think of anything else that could make a difference, Sylvanas. Help me?”

She looked into her lover’s eyes and nodded. They moved so she could get a better view of the street below, and Alyna began to channel a spell. Bolts of arcane energy flew from her hand into the building across the street. The trolls stopped and looked up at the building as debris began to rain down on them. One looked up at the source, and made to throw his spear at them but found an arrow through his throat, courtesy of a ranger perched high up opposite Sylvanas and Alyna.

Some of the trolls began to back away from the barricade as what Alyna was trying to do became evident, but they were too late. After nearly a minute of sustained bombardment, the building came crashing down into the street, crushing the trolls beneath. Alyna immediately began working on the next building away from the barricade. The other rangers rained arrows down to try and keep the trolls too busy to attack Alyna, and they mostly succeeded. A couple of weapons hit the side of the window, but she did not flinch.

When she was done, Sylvanas swung her back inside the small room they occupied. Immediately, Alyna turned in her arms and they kissed fiercely, both relieved to have got away with the dangerous move.

“Well,” came an amused voice from the doorway, “this is clearly where all the action is.”

They pair broke apart to gape at Liadrin. The adrenaline that had coursed through their bodies was fading, and Alyna sagged against Sylvanas. She guided her beloved down to the floor and Liadrin immediately began to tend to her. Knowing she was in safe hands, Sylvanas forced herself back to the window with a loaded bow to assess the scene below. The second building had been a large one and had collapsed into a third, bringing both down. The carnage had been severe, and the trolls now had additional obstacles to navigate. She wondered if they would even bother, as that would let her reinforce the other barricades, but her hope was short lived as she could just about see trolls trying to clamber over. They were easy pickings though, and were manageable, for now.

When Liadrin was done, Sylvanas made sure she told the other groups to bring down more buildings if they could. They were going to make it as difficult as possible for the trolls.

A few hours later, panic filled her body. The trolls had retreated from their street, and she realised they could be massing for another attack. After so many hours of continuous fighting, she doubted they could hold them back. She prepared to give the command to retreat to the manor house.

She looked down the street, waiting for any sign of the imminent attack, when she saw an elf clamber on top of the rubble Alyna had created. He held a spear aloft, with a white rag attached to it. She squinted at him, and recognised Halduron.

She leant out the window and cried, “Hold your fire!”

She felt an arm wrap around her waist and she returned the gesture. Then, out of a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration, she began to laugh. Alyna joined her. And, before long, so did the rest of the rangers on the barricade.

They had done it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 

Alyna knew she was pushing the limits of what her body was able to take. The arrival of the army had broken the siege, but that had not been the end of it. The army was tired from their rush to save the village, and the twenty-eight rangers left from defending the siege had fallen asleep in minutes. They had no time to rest though. Sylvanas allowed them four hours before taking most of the army north west to chase the trolls. Zul’Aman was in the south west, but scouts had reported most of the trolls were crossing the river to attack northern Quel’Thalas.

Her shoulder ached. Liadrin had done a great job, but the soft tissue damage had to heal naturally for the best results, and she had no time to rest. Her ability to wield magic was almost completely drained, even with Felo’alann. That was in large part due to her exhaustion. It would take days to recover and that was if she did nothing at all for the duration. That was not going to happen.

The siege had become a matter of pride for those who had survived it. Despite their weariness, all had volunteered to join the army in the chase. She knew what drove them: revenge. As they raced through the ruined villages and devastated forest, the rest of the army began to burn for vengeance as well.

As good as victory had been for the elves’ morale, it slowly became apparent the defeat had been taken badly by the troll leadership. The forest troll tribes had begun to fracture from Zul’jin’s control, with each tribe starting to do their own thing. They were scattering. Some were trying to escape Quel’Thalas, and had run into the rangers and their ultimate demise. Others were on a rampage, trying for their own glory. It had forced Sylvanas to split the army down into smaller sections to go after the worst of them. Sylvanas had kept a full company’s worth with herself, and their target was Zul’jin.

He knew they were after him and was fleeing, leaving his tribe to try and slow them down. Determined not to let him escape, Sylvanas broke off an elite group to stalk him through the trees. They were within the influence of the Runestones, so they did not have to worry about troll shaman. The forest was also still relatively intact, allowing them to track through the trees silently, avoiding most of the trolls. The main section of her company made enough noise to attract the trolls and they were not expecting their small group as they slipped through the various lines.

They pursued him to the banks of Lake Elrendar. The eight elves stood just inside the treeline trying to observe the area.

“I don’t see them,” reported Halduron.

Sela paced slightly. “Their tracks led right here. They couldn’t have gone far.”

Sylvanas shushed them all, trying to listen to the ambient sounds around them. None of them picked anything up that was unusual. Even the birds were singing. She turned to them and said, “Halduron, take three and scout around to the north. See if you can pick up any additional tracks before we step out into the open. I’ll take the rest south and do the same. We’ll meet back here in twenty minutes.”

“Aye, General.” He took two of the rangers, and Liadrin, while Alyna, Sela and Raynin went with Sylvanas.

They stayed within the trees but kept their eyes on the beach looking for clues as to where the trolls had gone. There were no footprints, or signs that a boat had been pulled up onto the shore. After ten minutes they stopped to turn around and make their way back to the rendezvous, when Alyna realised the animals had gone quiet. She turned to alert Sylvanas at the same time as her general let out a small grunt and fell to her knees.

Sela raised her bow and Raynin his shield as they looked around as Alyna knelt beside Sylvanas, helping her lean against a tree. Sylvanas’ eyes were wide but she seemed unable to speak. Alyna had put her hand at the back of Sylvanas’ head and realised there was a projectile piercing her hood. She pulled the dart out of her general’s neck and gasped as she saw the tinge of poison. Before she had a chance to sniff it to identify what it was, several trolls dropped down out of the trees.

Alyna had been holding Felo’alann and began casting rapidly, trying to protect Sylvanas as much as she could. She managed to kill three trolls before she found her magic would no longer respond. She sheathed her runeblade and unslung her bow, but not in time as a large green body slammed into her, sending them both out of the treeline and sliding down the beach.

The force of the fall split them up and she rolled to her feet, coming face to face with a troll she instinctively knew was Zul’jin. His armour was heavily decorated with bone and other trophies, including elven ears. She snarled at him and he drew a blade, brandishing it with deadly ease. Her bow was a few feet away, and she realised if she reached for her own blade he would attack before she could bring it to bear.

He feinted a couple of times to test her reflexes, and when she was sure he was about to attack her properly, she threw her own feint in, taking a couple of steps back towards the trees. He leapt to block her path and she dived towards her bow. She grabbed it, rose to a knee with an arrow already in her hand, and shot it into his leg, her shoulder screaming in pain with the effort. He grunted and stumbled slightly, but kept coming towards her. Ignoring her shoulder, she reloaded her bow and fired again, this time piercing his neck. He dropped his blade and grasped at his throat, gurgling blood as he collapsed to his knees.

Halduron came running into sight at that point with his group and they converged rapidly. Alyna made eye contact with Liadrin and pointed towards Sylvanas, who was just about visible against the tree she had left her, guarded by Sela and surrounded by dead trolls. Raynin’s body lay nearby.

As Alyna stood, Halduron strode over to Zul’jin, who was still struggling with his wound. He back handed the troll leader viciously. She was too stunned to intervene immediately, and the other rangers cheered him on as he beat the troll angrily. She felt her own hatred, her rage, and her spite rise up inside her and she wanted nothing more than to push Halduron aside and to take his place with her fists.

_Be wise._

She heard the dragon’s voice reverberate through her mind as if he were there, and she knew she had to rise above her baser instincts. She had to push her deep violent urges aside.

“Stop this!” she cried, finally regaining her senses.

Halduron whirled on her, Zul’jin’s blood splattered against his gauntlets and armour. “Why?” he shouted angrily. “What mercy has he shown our families? Our friends? He has wiped entire villages from existence! Innocent blood soaks into our soil!”

Alyna strode up to him, letting him know she was not afraid of him. “You don’t think I know that? I’ve seen just as much as you have, if not more. I _know_ what he has done.” She looked around at the others, making eye contact with each of them. “I understand your pain. I feel your anger. I want revenge too. But if we do this, we _become_ them.”

“Utter nonsense!” the ranger lieutenant spat in her direction.

She ignored him and pushed past him. She grabbed Zul’jin’s wild white hair and pulled him back up to his knees. Viciously, she grabbed the arrow shaft and snapped it, and then pulled the rest of the arrow out of the wound. His blood squirted out briefly before she saw his natural regenerative ability kick in. He breathing was still difficult, but the external wound healed in seconds.

Still holding his hair, she raised his chin up to accuse him directly even as her words were intended for the rangers gathered. “What they’ve done … what he’s ordered … that is what they are.” She looked back at Halduron. “I won’t let him make you, or any of us, monsters like he is.”

She drew her runeblade and took a step back from Zul’jin. Realising what she was about to do, Halduron screamed “NO!” and tried to reach her before she could finish. With both hands on the hilt, she swung as hard as she could down into the troll’s neck, beheading him cleanly.

Halduron howled his rage and frustration at her before storming off down the beach.

* * *

 

The next morning, Sylvanas and Alyna took a portal to Silvermoon. They had spent half the night rounding up what was left of Zul’jin’s tribe, and Sylvanas felt bound to report to the council as soon as possible. She felt she might as well get the report out of the way, and then re-join her rangers to finish mopping up the rest of the trolls. She had brought Alyna with her because there was something else she was going to break to the council, and she figured it would be received better if Alyna was there as well.

Sylvanas was still feeling the effects of the paralysing poison she had been attacked with. If Liadrin had not reached her when she had, she would have rapidly suffocated as her organs stopped working. It was another reason to have someone else along with her as she wasn’t entirely steady on her feet just yet.

Sylvanas had witnessed Zul’jin’s execution silently, having been unable to even speak from the poison in her veins. She had also not been able to clearly hear what had been said between Alyna and Halduron. As a result, she had deeply disagreed with Alyna’s actions at the time, her own losses still achingly raw. Strategically, the troll chieftain could also have held vital information about the numbers and rough whereabouts of his remaining forces. By executing him, they had lost their best source. They had also lost their chance for personal vengeance.

In hindsight, she had realised it had been the right thing to do. She had been furious with Alyna but what she had thought was naivety had perhaps been wisdom beyond her years. When she confronted her lover she was told Alyna had killed him to save them from themselves. She had known their outrage and pain at what the trolls had done to their home could have driven them to do unspeakable things. Somehow, she had just known. She had risen above her own anger and saved them in a way Sylvanas was sure many would never truly realise.

She had only to look at Halduron to see what could have been if the troll had not died when he did. His wild behaviour in the aftermath had convinced her that once they’d had the information they needed, he would not have swiftly executed his prisoner as honour would have demanded. A necessary evil would have become sadistic revenge and she would not have been able to stop it. She trusted her rangers to maintain their honour through such moral quagmires, and felt no need to oversee such matters. She would have trusted him, and she would have been mistaken. It would have cost a good man his soul, along with any others who would have trod in his footsteps. For now, he could not stand to be near Alyna. She hoped he would heal in time and realise what Alyna had been brave enough to do for him.

Sylvanas had expected to spend half the day waiting for her superiors to assemble, but was surprised to find that despite the early hour of their arrival they were all prepared to see her very shortly. To her even greater surprise, the meeting would not be in the council chambers on Quel’Danas, but in the throne room of Sunstrider Spire in Silvermoon with the king also in attendance.

He sat resplendently on his throne, his fine gold and red robes exquisite and no doubt expensive. Beside him was his own runeblade, Felo'melorn, also known as Flamestrike. It had been the first runeblade to become part of their society, and had been passed down through the Sunstrider dynasty for ten millennia. Sylvanas had been disarmed before entering the room, as had Alyna, though Alyna had been allowed to keep her own runeblade. This was partly because of the logistics of handling a weapon that didn’t like to be out of its owner’s hands, but also as a small recognition of their achievement. The king was powerful enough in his own right to deal with any single threat.

Both elves bowed as they approached the centre of the room before their king. There were three smaller chairs to each side of him, and each held a council member. Sylvanas’ grandfather sat to his immediate left, and Alyna’s grandfather to his right.

“Welcome home, General,” intoned the elderly king.

“Thank you, your Majesty,” she replied. More pleasantries were exchanged and Sylvanas began her report. While Vereesa had given them a brief rundown of the events in Lordaeron, she expanded on what they already knew, making sure that Alyna’s role in everything did not go unnoticed. She then described the events at Tranquillien, and the subsequent chase and execution of Zul’jin.

“I must say, my dear,” began Belo’vir to his granddaughter, “I am surprised but extremely pleased with your progress.”

A second voice interrupted. “Surprised? I’d say it’s a bloody miracle.” The councilman’s words dripped with scorn. “Pray tell us, how does an apprentice achieve such feats that even some of our more accomplished magisters struggle with? Across more than one school of magic, no less.”

Alyna gave Sylvanas a nervous look, and received a reassuring nod. She slowly reached for the hilt of Felo’alann, and drew the blade. The collective gasp of those assembled bounced off the walls of the throne room as the runes lit up, and Sylvanas had to lower her face to hide her grin. She would never tire of that reaction, she realised with great amusement.

Belo’vir recovered quickly to hurl a reply at his colleague. “Does that answer your question? Felo’alann’s knack for magnifying and focusing innate ability has always been known. If it’s anywhere near as powerful in Alyna’s hands as it was in Falcar’s, she’ll be running rings around most of us in no time.” Alyna stiffened slightly, and Sylvanas was aware of her surprise. Her mentor was generally a very quiet man, and despite wielding a runeblade he had never boasted of the honour. It would appear his discreteness had also extended to his abilities as Alyna had not been fully aware of the greatness of the man she had been tutored by.

The grand magister turned to Alyna with a brilliant smile on his face. “Congratulations, Alyna. I am deeply proud of you. I’m sure you will do great things with your blade. You are clearly an apprentice no more, and once we’ve got you fully attuned to fire you can call yourself an Arcanist. Of course, that will just be a temporary position. You’ll be a Magister in our own right within the next decade I imagine. One of our youngest ever.”

His pride was evident in how animated he had become. Sylvanas wondered if he had aspirations for his granddaughter to succeed him as grand magister one day. She realised he was about to be greatly disappointed.

“I will not be attuning, Grand Magister,” Alyna announced, softly but strongly.

The room erupted with protests and High King Anasterian Sunstrider was forced to call everyone to order. He leant forward in his throne and addressed his question to Alyna, his voice diplomatically neutral. “It is a requirement for all apprentices to go through attunement to graduate to the next level. Those of us present who are mages have all been through the rite, including myself. Why would you purposefully restrict your progress, Lady Salonar?”

“Ranger General Windrunner has offered to reinstate my position as a Ranger Captain within the Farstriders. I have accepted. Any rite of attunement would nullify my ability to utilise the natural magic of the rangers and render me ineffective at my job.”

The noise in the room exploded again. Sylvanas was impressed with her lover. Her voice had held no hint of nerves as she spoke. She wasn’t sure if it was her own fear, or the remaining poison in her body, but it was taking great effort for the general not to shiver with the amount of nervous energy coursing through her body.

“Enough!” ordered the king, “or I will have the room vacated!” Two of the council members had stood from their chairs, and now reluctantly sat back down. Their outrage remained on their faces. Both grandfathers were glaring angrily at Sylvanas, and she was the target for the king’s next question. “You should know better than to offer such a thing, General. She certainly cannot accept.”

Sylvanas pulled on all of her experience in dealing with those gathered for the courage to say her piece. “I beg to differ, your Majesty.” She glanced briefly at Alyna before continuing, “The mage contingent were absolutely vital to our success these last few weeks, as were the priesthood. Both of us would not be standing here before you now if it wasn’t for magic, or the Light.” She let that knowledge sink in before speaking again. “We all know that there are many in our society who spend their lives doing menial tasks within the magocracy because they show too small a talent for magic, but just enough for us to consider them dangerous and remove them from their families, their friends, their very lives. What of them? Don’t they deserve the chance to make something of themselves? Even their small talent can make a difference within the Farstriders if they showed an aptitude for our way of life. I am willing to open our ranks to include any who pass our tests and prove themselves worthy.”

This time, it was her own grandfather who spoke up. “But Alyna is no small talent destined for life as an apprentice.”

Sylvanas inclined her head in agreement. “You’re right. She is quite the opposite. Before her magic manifested she was an extremely gifted ranger, in my opinion second only to myself in talent. And now, as a mage, the Grand Magister himself believes she will eclipse even some of your esteemed selves present here today.” She ignored the scoff from off to the side. “It is my understanding, as a layman in these things, that attunement is normally required to unlock abilities that cannot be accessed without the rite. I put it to you that Alyna has already proven she does not require this unlocking as Felo’alann has already done it for her with her primary element. All the rite would accomplish now would be to limit her ability to perform other types of useful magic. You would effectively castrate her.” She held back her smile as the males reacted to her intentional analogy.

The king gazed impassively at Sylvanas before turning his attention to Alyna. “I concede the General’s argument is a logical one. What I don’t understand is why you will not embrace life as a mage, instead of being a ranger.”

The two women looked at each other for a long moment before Alyna replied, “I admit that I have taken more enjoyment from my magic in the past few weeks than I ever have in three decades, but that is all it is. A fleeting joy, a temporary fulfilment of a task that gets me what I want. It’s a useful tool to me, not the lifeblood that drives me like I know it is for those of you who are magisters.” A few reluctant nods could be seen. “Being a ranger is what I am. I have lived and breathed that existence for over a century, and the thirty years I have been in Quel’Danas have felt like exile; a punishment instead of an honour.” The grand magister shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Being back with the army lately has only just affirmed my true calling to me. I am a Farstrider who can throw fireballs. Not a mage who can use a bow.”

The throne room remained quiet as the king contemplated her words and the emotion behind them. Finally, he smiled. “I envy you, Alyna Salonar.” The councillors turned to look at him in surprise as he reached for his own runeblade, the runes responding to his touch. “When my father handed Felo’melorn to me, it was the happiest day of my life at that point. It took years, but the blade eventually bonded with me.” His eyes flickered up to meet Alyna’s. “That was the saddest day of my life.” He chuckled without mirth as he set the blade down, his voice taking on bitter tones. “My destiny was already set for me – I was to become High King upon my father’s death. My life revolved around being prepared to lose a man I loved, and to rule my people. When the blade bonded with me, I knew the other possible paths my life could have taken that were closed to me. The potential of a runeblade is immense.” He sat back in his throne and gazed intently at Alyna. “But you are not bound by such things. As such, I will have you realise your potential as you see fit, Lady Salonar.”

Sylvanas felt her knees weaken so she could only wonder how Alyna had not collapsed to the floor with her own relief. She could feel her tremble with gratitude, and it showed in her shaky reply, “Th-thank you, y-your Majesty.”

“I do ask one thing of you, Flameheart.” Alyna blinked at him. The king never asked for anything; he ordered. “Your blade has chosen you for a reason, and the gifts it grants must be explored and realised for you to meet your full potential. That requires training, and guidance.” He nodded at Sylvanas, “You already have the best possible with regards to your ranger training, and I submit to you that there is no one more suited than Magister Falcar to guide you in your unique magical talent. While you may be tempted to shun all things connected to your time on Quel’Danas, I urge you to consider continuing your formal training under your mentor.” He smiled. “I hereby grant you the rank of Arcanist, whereby no one will have need to require you to attune should you not wish it. But I do ask you to continue to explore this side of you, _Captain_ Salonar. It is now an inescapable part of you, but at least now you can embrace it on your own terms. If anything, I believe you owe it to yourself to see what you are truly capable of.”

Alyna seemed thrown by his words. As much as Sylvanas hated to admit it, he was right. She had no idea what that meant for them as a couple, or for Alyna’s life as a ranger, but she had faith they could figure it out.

“I will consider your words carefully, your Majesty.”

The king turned to Sylvanas. “I expect you will be flexible to any decision she makes in this?”

Sylvanas nodded her agreement. She would support Alyna in any way required. She was not about to make that mistake again. “Yes, your Majesty.”

“Good.”

They spent a few more minutes discussing details of the continued efforts to clear their land of trolls. Once the deed was accomplished, the king wanted to hold a parade through the streets of Silvermoon and honour those who had gone above and beyond the call of duty. He expected Sylvanas to submit a few names for a medal ceremony. She wondered if he realised what an awful task that could be, as she was of the opinion that everyone deserved recognition.

When the two women left the throne room, they stood outside together shaking with the release of nervous energy and tension. They looked at each other and grinned.

“We did it!” exclaimed Alyna.

Sylvanas chuckled, “It appears we did.”

Alyna flew into her arms and they held each other tightly. Sylvanas could hear Alyna sob quietly before whispering, “I’m free.”

Sylvanas stroked her hair softly, a lump forming in her stomach. Neither of them were free quite yet. She still had to deal with her blackmailer, and until that was done they would not be left alone.

Alyna pulled back slightly and they kissed passionately, not immediately minding where they were for the moment. Sylvanas felt a familiar stirring inside her, and broke their embrace. She kissed Alyna’s nose apologetically for pulling them apart. “Let’s get our bows, and then how about a tour of your room on Quel’Danas?”

Unsurprisingly, Alyna agreed to her plan.


	15. Chapter 15

They took a portal directly to Dawnstar Village where the modest home Alyna shared with three other apprentices was located just outside the centre. It was still early in the morning and most of the residents would be just waking up. She let them into her home, and Sylvanas barely let them get through the door before she pressed Alyna up against the wall, their mouths finding each other.

A female voice cleared itself and they paused, realising they were not alone. It was only then that Sylvanas remembered that the corridor they were in could be seen from the kitchen table, around which were three very young apprentices all staring at them with their mouths hanging open. She felt Alyna shaking and realised she was laughing.

Alyna looked up at her and managed to say, “At least it wasn’t Liadrin, for once.”

Sylvanas grinned. “She’s probably just outside.” They both chuckled briefly before walking into the kitchen.

Thal'ena stood up and gave Alyna a hug fierce enough for her to wince, her shoulder still being tender. When she pulled away she looked at Sylvanas and then back to Alyna. “I knew you’d come back with a story to tell, but I didn’t expect this.”

“I volunteered to go with the Farstriders into Lordaeron. We just got back.”

Thal’ena’s eyes widened and the other two young women gasped. “You were with the army? We heard the orcs were massive! And that the trolls were vicious!”

Alyna smiled at her friend. “I promise I’ll catch you up on everything, soon.” She exchanged a glance with Sylvanas. “We need to get back to the army shortly and I need to pack.” As Alyna spoke, Sylvanas looked at the other two women at the table. They shrunk back from her immediately, intimidated by the legendary general. It was not a reaction she was used to. She was always welcomed warmly in the villages, but those in the cities kept her at a distance. It always unsettled her.

“You’re leaving?” Thal’ena sounded sad as well as surprised.

“For now.” Alyna bit her lip anxiously. “It’s a long story, but I’m an Arcanist now and have been released from my duties here on Quel’Danas.”

Sylvanas couldn’t hold back her smile as Thal’ena drew Alyna into another hug. When she pulled back, the young apprentice had tears in her eyes. “I’m very happy for you.” Sylvanas realised she meant it. She supposed that Thal’ena had seen more of Alyna’s unhappiness than most, having lived with her for so long.

With promises to meet up soon, Alyna led Sylvanas into her room. As Sylvanas closed the door, Alyna went over to a small clear orb on her simple desk. She passed her hand over it and murmured a command. Colours swirled around inside the orb before it settled on a dark grey. She turned back to Sylvanas with a lecherous smile.

“That’ll dampen any sounds we make.”

Sylvanas needed no other invitation and they removed their weapons and armour quickly. Alyna’s bed was only designed for single occupancy, but that was a minor inconvenience. As Alyna lay back, she pulled Sylvanas on top of her. The grizzled general luxuriated in her partner’s hands across her back and the smooth warmth of her body as she dragged her own over naked skin.

They held nothing back as they explored and enjoyed each other. Sylvanas was enraptured by the woman in her arms. Gaining her freedom from Quel’Danas had lifted a great weight off of Alyna’s shoulders, and she was sharing that mood with Sylvanas. She was ecstatically happy, and making sure her general reached similar heady heights. It was almost too much for her for bear.

Hours later, as noon came and went, Alyna lay on top of her, spread out over her body. Sylvanas decided life could not get any better.

Alyna chuckled, the sound vibrating down Sylvanas’ own body. “Well, I bet that’ll create some gossip.”

Sylvanas joined in with her mirth. “I’m quite sure you were loud enough at a couple of points to overwhelm that orb of yours.”

Dark blue eyes peered up at Sylvanas. “Look who’s talking. I still can’t hear properly out of my left ear.”

“If you like, I could do the same to your other ear for balance?” Sylvanas received a light jab for the remark and she chuckled.

“Do you mind?”

Sylvanas looked at her with confusion before she realised what she was referring to. “The gossip? Not at all. Let them gossip.”

Alyna sat up slightly to look at her properly. “Do you really mean that?”

Getting to see more of Alyna’s body was an instant turn on for the general, but she swallowed her need to focus on their conversation. “Yes.” Alyna’s smile would normally have filled Sylvanas with joy, but it had an unintended effect – it made her feel guilty. She knew Alyna had interpreted her ‘yes’ to mean they would not hide their relationship from anyone, and that she was proud of what they had. She was indeed proud, but they still had a big problem. One Alyna was currently unaware of. Her desire faded, and Alyna noticed the shift in her body language.

She leant forward and brushed her lips gently against Sylvanas’ before pulling back to look at her gently. “Tell me.”

Sylvanas sat up on the small bed, triggering Alyna to fetch a dressing gown for herself and a long t-shirt for Sylvanas. She knew their bare skin would not help matters if they were to talk seriously.

She wasn’t entirely sure how to start. Alyna sat next to her and waited patiently, their fingers intertwined. Eventually, she just came out with it all bluntly. “I left you because I was told to.” Confusion flittered across Alyna’s features as she continued, “When I came to see you that last time, I was pulled aside and told if our relationship continued, you would be hurt.”

Alyna blinked. “You were blackmailed into leaving me? And if you didn’t I was in danger?”

“Yes,” Sylvanas said simply. She looked at the floor, unable to meet the piercing dark blue eyes. “I was completely powerless to protect you from him. He could do what he threatened, and more importantly, I knew he would make good on it if I disobeyed him.”

“Who? Who would dare do that to you? To us?”

Sylvanas looked at Alyna, and told her. She leapt from the bed and paced the room angrily. She was incensed, and Sylvanas knew exactly what she was feeling. She had felt it herself when he had originally blackmailed her, and every day since, whenever she thought of him.

After raging for several minutes, Alyna stopped and glared at Sylvanas. “Why? Why would he do such a thing?”

Sylvanas snorted derisively before replying, “I love you, but surely you’re not that naïve, Alyna? We both knew that one day our families would demand our separation. Yes, we ignored it. But they were _always_ going to try.”

The mage threw her arms up into the air in exasperation. “But to do it like this? What in the Sunwell was he thinking?”

“Probably that if our father’s had told us to stop seeing each other that we would have ignored them.” She raised an eyebrow. “And we would have.”

Alyna folded her arms defiantly. “So he does this?” She shook her head before something made her eyes widen. “Did anyone else know? He surely must have had pairings lined up for us.”

Sylvanas shifted awkwardly. “I believe I am to be betrothed to your elder brother soon.”

Her jaw dropped. “Galanir? But … for that to happen then Father would …” Her chin dropped to her chest. “Father knows about the blackmail, doesn’t he?”

“I’m sorry.”

She gave a strained laugh. “I always knew he never thought highly of me. I want to say I’m surprised that he could help orchestrate this, but I’m not. Something tells me he would enjoy torturing us both by having you marry a brother who had always delighted in bullying me.” She blinked back a few tears before quietly asking, “And what about me? I can’t imagine I was to remain single in all this.”

Sylvanas shook her head. “I know he had plans for you, but I was not told about them. I have my suspicions though.”

Alyna took a step forward anxiously. “Who?”

She looked at Alyna sadly, not wanting to break the news to her but having no choice. “Zendarin.” Alyna’s hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. Sylvanas felt the need to calm her beloved. “I don’t know that for sure. I just found the timing of his arrival in your life to be suspect, considering what I knew. His attention to you could have been exactly what it seemed though, and innocent.”

Alyna replied emptily. “Or, he could have known about everything and has been grooming me all this time, hoping I’ll fall in love with him and make his life easier.”

“Or, that.” Sylvanas felt awful. She knew Alyna had had few friends on Quel’Danas and Zendarin had been one of them. She hoped he was not involved but her instincts told her he was.

“What we did in the throne room … he’ll know won’t he? He knows we’re back together?”

Sylvanas nodded. “Oh, I have no doubt he knows.”

Alyna approached her slowly to stand before her. Sylvanas looked up her body to dark blue eyes that were full of rage. A shudder went down her spine, but she couldn’t look away. Alyna cupped her cheek softly.

“It must have been so hard for you all these years, to keep this secret for both of us.”

The general blinked. “You … understand?”

Alyna nodded slowly. “I think if he had approached me with the same threat of harm to you, I would have also believed him, and would have been equally powerless to do anything about it.” She threaded her fingers through Sylvanas’ gold hair, caressing her scalp gently. Sylvanas closed her eyes as Alyna’s words washed over her. “I couldn’t bear anything happening to you then, as much I can’t bear it now. But, at least now we can do something about it.”

Sylvanas opened her eyes. “Oh?”

The smile she got also sent a shiver down her spine, though this time it contained a promise of revenge that Sylvanas was grateful was not aimed at herself. Alyna sketched out her plan and Sylvanas thought it was more than just viable – it could actually work. It would take time to put together and implement, but she could finally see a day when she did not have to worry about Alyna’s safety.

Once their plan was agreed, Alyna gave her another dark smile. She bent down and removed Sylvanas’ t-shirt, before pushing the general back to lie on the bed. Alyna straddled her hips and bent down to kiss her general roughly. She trailed a finger along Sylvanas’ body as she sat back up, eventually removing her dressing gown.

She chuckled at the curious and very turned on look Sylvanas gave her. Alyna raised an amused eyebrow as she spoke in a voice that did surprising things to Sylvanas’ body. “You’ve got some making up to do.”

Sylvanas whimpered.

They didn't get around to packing Alyna's meagre belongings until later that evening. Sylvanas made sure she packed the orb. When they finally left, they took a portal back to Silvermoon and then walked to the ranger stables the Farstriders kept in the city. She kept Alyna close by the whole way. They would have to finish dealing with the trolls, and then there was the parade to get through before they could deal with their blackmailer. There was plenty that could go wrong between now and then. Society had expectations of them and they were rebelling against it all. Despite her fear, she was still eager to see it all through.

* * *

 

The streets of Silvermoon were a cacophony of colour, music and magic as they rode triumphantly through the streets to their hero’s welcome. They had arrived back at Farstrider Retreat from their troll hunts the day before. After a good night’s rest, they were all now dressed in their ceremonial armour.

Normally, Sylvanas would ride at the head of the parade, but pride of place this day went to the woman they were calling the Troll Slayer, Alyna. When she was told she would head the parade, Alyna had panicked. She was only slightly relieved when Sylvanas had told her she did not mind at all, but she still felt out of place. She was certain the only way she was managing to remain calm was because her lover was riding to her right, lending morale support by her considerable presence. Lor’themar was at her left flank, looking resplendent in his highly polished plate armour.

Alyna was immensely proud to be wearing her ranger captain armour, though it still fit a little loosely on her thin frame. It was something she hoped to rectify soon with rigorous training. Sylvanas had one last surprise for her before they left the barracks that morning. She’d had a pair of decorative purple and gold sashes made for her. They were the colours of an arcanist, and the sashes now fell from each shoulder to the opposite hip, forming a cross at her chest. She knew Sylvanas adored the look, but it was important to Alyna because it showed her lover’s acceptance of Alyna’s decision to continue her magical training under Falcar. She would spend two to three months at a time with the rangers, and then two to three weeks in Quel’Danas. Falcar also promised to visit her at Farstrider Enclave occasionally to teach her in the field.

It took an hour to wind their way through the crowded streets, and by the time they arrived outside Sunstrider Spire they were covered in confetti. Alyna figured she’d be finding it all over the place for days to come. A guard of honour had lined the red-carpeted walkway to the entrance, where High King Anasterian Sunstrider stood in full regal splendour. To his right was her grandfather, Grand Magister Belo’vir, beaming proudly at her. Sylvanas’ own grandfather was to the king’s left, also smiling. The families of the parading rangers were present. She saw her parents and tried not to scowl at them. The pain of finding out about their betrayal was still raw, though she had not told them yet that she knew. All four of her siblings were at their side, her two brothers and two sisters. Her older siblings, Galanir and Lylias, were as reserved as their father. Her younger brother and sister, Calduros and Lirea, were bouncing up and down trying to get her attention, and she smiled happily at them.

She also saw Sylvanas’ parents and her heart was pained at not seeing Lirath. Twenty-six of Sylvanas’ kin had died in the raid on their village. It had been two weeks since the massacre and they were still attending funerals. While the shock and pain was still raw, Alleria had taken it the worst, and was not part of the celebration today. She wasn’t even in Quel’Thalas anymore, having left to seek comfort in the arms of her human lover, Turalyon. Neither Alyna nor Sylvanas could say they were surprised at the relationship, but she knew Sylvanas had doubts as to whether it was healthy for her after their recent losses. Alyna didn’t know what to think. She was in her own unconventional relationship, and rumours had been rife about it amongst the civilian population.

The three ranger officers dismounted, and Alyna unhooked a grisly trophy that had been hanging from her saddle. They strode proudly towards their monarch, halting a respectable distance from him. Alyna took one more step forward and held the severed, magically preserved head of Zul’jin out towards her king.

He took the head by the blood-stiffened hair with no qualms at touching the grisly object. He stepped forward as the rangers moved to the side, having expected his movement. The crowd hushed and he moved his gaze to encompass as many as he could before he spoke. Though greatly aged at over three thousand years old, his voice was strong and carried far. Alyna suspected a spell or two had been cast to help.

“People of Silvermoon, of Quel’Thalas! A terrible Horde _dared_ to encroach on our sun-blessed lands! They burnt down our sacred forest. They _allied_ with our ancient enemy. But we have prevailed, against the odds. Our valiant rangers have fought and died for our freedom. They have sacrificed for our security! And they have endured hardship for our continued survival in this land that we have made our home. We owe them much, and they shall be known by the people for their heroic deeds!”

The crowd had worked itself into a barely contained frenzy through his speech. Like any good orator, the king knew it was time to wrap it up with a flourish.

“Good citizens! She faced the barbaric leader of our ancient enemy one on one in mortal combat, and prevailed! Please welcome home our heroes, led by the Troll Slayer, Ranger Captain Alyna Salonar!”

He thrust up the head of Zul’jin for all to see, and the crowd were unleashed. Presently, a pair of guards stepped forward and relieved their king of the head. They placed it on a pike at the start of the red carpet and formed a guard around it so it could be seen but not tampered with. The king strode up the carpet and clasped arms with Sylvanas, Alyna and Lor’themar before inviting them into the Spire where they knew a lavish feast awaited the rangers.

Hours later, as the sun began to set, they all appeared again on the royal balcony overlooking the entrance they had paraded up earlier. The crowds were still there, albeit in a fairly intoxicated state. Alyna stood next to Sylvanas as various speeches were given by council members. It seemed to her that everyone needed to have their say and therefore their share in a glory they had nothing to do with.

The king spent some time handing out medals to those Sylvanas had recommended for special attention. She had not warned any of them about the honour, and Alyna knew she was enjoying their shock and delight at being recognised by their nation, and their general. The only time it could have gone mildly wrong was when Liadrin’s name was called and all anyone could hear was the inebriated priestess swearing. After a collective holding of breath, everyone laughed and she was dragged forward to be honoured.

The last name to be called was Alyna’s, and she stepped forward to rapturous applause she generally felt she didn’t deserve. The Star of Silvermoon was hung around her neck, the highest elven military award for bravery. As the other medal winners lined up beside her to receive a final round of accolades, she felt Sylvanas at her shoulder. She turned to smile at her, and was not prepared for what happened next.

In front of their families, friends, and nation, Sylvanas pulled her into a long, passionate kiss that sent the crowd wild. Initially she thought it was outrage, but she quickly realised they were ecstatically celebrating. It was at that point she realised just how popular Sylvanas was. She had always been a favoured daughter of the people, and she was kissing their latest heroine. To them, it couldn’t get any better.

Of all the eyes that were on them, she felt one particular pair burning a hole in her back. She knew they would have to deal with him eventually, but for now, she enjoyed the simple joy of shamelessly kissing the woman she loved.

* * *

 

Sylvanas strolled casually out of Windrunner Spire and down the access path. As she approached the treeline, she paused and looked around. She wasn’t expecting anyone to be watching but it was a habit. She called on her natural magic and knew her image would appear to meld into the trees and disappear as she stepped into the forest. She walked through the forest for a few minutes, her feet guiding her automatically to where she needed to go.

She was nervous.

She moved into a small clearing dominated by a large white rock in the middle, and she automatically gravitated towards it. One side was flatter than the others and someone with obvious talent had carved a proud stag into the soft surface. She reached out to run a finger along the talented lines when an angry male voice caused her to pause.

“You disappoint me, Sylvanas.”

She turned to face him, her eyes locking onto those of her grandfather, Ra’thanar Windrunner, glaring back. “You’ll get used to that.”

He sneered. “You think you’ve grown teeth? You have nothing of the sort.”

“Is that all you have to say after all you’ve done?”

He angrily stared her down before practically spitting his words. “Don’t you care about your legacy? The continuation of our blood?”

Sylvanas shrugged, “We can adopt.”

He flung his arms up in frustration. “That is not the same!” He shook his head sadly. “You and Galanir would have had beautiful, _powerful_ children.” Sylvanas shuddered at his words, uncomfortable with being referred to as nothing more than breeding stock. His features darkened as he composed himself. “You know you leave me no other choice in this matter?”

Her own mood darkened and she stepped towards him, the threat of violence evident in her posture. “You cannot touch her now. Even _you_ should be aware of that. The people have accepted her as a champion. For Sunwell’s sake, she is bonded to a runeblade! Do you honestly think you can challenge her?”

“You think _they_ will protect her? The same people who cowered while she was off fighting for them?” His laugh was bitter and laced with no small amount of jealousy. “She is their darling now, but it won’t always be that way. The people are fickle, and they _will_ find a new champion. _I_ will make sure of that!”

Sylvanas took another step forward and her grandfather drew his staff before him in a defensive posture. He smiled cruelly. “Without her runeblade she is nothing! She will be forgotten, and when she falls broken before me no one besides you will even care!”

An angry voice shouted from the cover of the forest, “I think you will find that I will!”

Ra’thanar whirled towards the voice, his shock evident on his face as Grand Magister Belo’vir Salonar emerged from the trees, the gem on his staff glowing vibrantly with stored energy.

Another voice came from the opposite side of the clearing. “As will I!” Vereesa stepped out, an arrow nocked to her bow string.

“And I!”

“I will as well!”

The angry chorus grew as people stepped from the trees into the rapidly shrinking space. Ra’thanar whirled around at each new voice, his face a picture of horror Sylvanas knew she would delight in for the rest of her days. Once she and Alyna had realised they would not be able to stand up to him alone, many of those they trusted had answered their call to bear witness to her grandfather’s treachery, even if it exposed her own cowardly shame at letting it happen. He had used her pride against her, betting she could not bear the humiliation of admitting her guilt.

She had let that protect him for too long. She looked at those who stood with her now, blinking back tears and thanking them silently with each fresh pair of eyes she made contact with. Her parents, Talath and Ya’dana; her sister, Vereesa; her most trusted rangers, including Lor’themar. Even Halduron had stepped forward, despite his personal misgivings at Alyna’s recent choices. She smiled at Alyna’s mentor, Falcar, and at Alyna’s younger sister, Lirea. Liadrin looked like she wanted to dismember her grandfather with her bare hands. She felt an arm slide around her waist and she raised her own to wrap it around the shoulders of the woman who was everything to her, dipping her head to receive a brief but reassuring kiss from Alyna.

Sylvanas looked back at her grandfather who was quivering with rage as he roared, “This … isn’t … over!”

Belo’vir moved towards him, circling around as a predator would its prey before the kill. “I think you’ll find it is, Ra’thanar.”

The elder Windrunner began to cast a spell at the grand magister, but he never completed it. Before everyone’s eyes his body rapidly morphed into that of a small white sheep. The sheep blinked with surprise and bleated plaintively before aimlessly walking around.

Everyone stared at it for a few seconds before Belo’vir looked at Sylvanas in surprise. “Well, that wasn’t me.”

Alyna was shaking silently into Sylvanas’ side, causing the general to look at her, raising an eyebrow. Alyna blurted out, “I really didn’t expect that to actually _work!_ ” before dissolving into laughter. Everyone else joined in for a few moments. When the polymorph spell wore off after thirty seconds, those who had weapons raised them to point at the ruffled Windrunner, a silent warning of what would happen if he tried to cast again.

“That was outrageous!” he blurted.

Belo’vir snorted with amusement. “You’ll get over it. The taste of grass takes a while to fade though.” He nodded towards Sylvanas’ father, Talath. “I believe it is time for an honoured son to succeed his disgraced father.”

“You have no authority to remove me from the Council!”

Belo’vir turned back towards Ra’thanar, not bothering to hide the fury on his face. “The Council exists to advise our King and to lead our people with wisdom, knowledge and humility. We make the decisions most cannot bear to burden, and we do so for the good of all! Not for the pathetic political manoeuvring of a disgraceful egotist!” He stepped into Ra’thanar’s personal space, his voice low and threatening. “If you want to make a fight of this, I’m sure all of Quel’Thalas will be interested to know _everything_ you have been up to of late.”

No one moved as the two elder statesmen glared at each other.

Eventually, Talath spoke in strong but confident tones. “If you step aside now, Father, everything that has happened here today will remain in this clearing. We have all sworn an oath to that effect should Sylvanas hold us to it.” Reluctant nods could be seen around those gathered.

Ra’thanar knew he had been beaten, and his shoulders slumped. He looked past Belo’vir to Sylvanas, and she met him evenly. He gave a brief nod of agreement, which she returned. He made a gesture with his hand and disappeared in a cloud of arcane magic, teleporting away.

Sylvanas wrapped both her arms around a beaming Alyna and everyone gathered around them, cheering and clapping each other on the back. Sylvanas took it all in. They were all her family, she realised, and she would protect and fight for all of them to her last breath. It had taken a war for her to realise what was truly important in her life. She never wanted to make that mistake ever again.

She squeezed Alyna fondly and rejoiced in the musical laugh she received in response. Alyna turned in her arms and their lips met in a slow celebratory kiss.

Off to the side, Liadrin’s voice could be heard over the cheers. “Do you _really_ have to keep doing that in front of me?”

Everyone laughed.

* * *

 

**A/N - I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you fancy seeing more about what Alyna and Sylvanas get up to, head on over to the next part of the _Dark Ranger_ series, Sun's Fall - Yay!**


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